


Paint Chips

by divingbelle



Category: Miss Fisher's Murder Mysteries
Genre: Angst with a Happy Ending, Case Fic, F/M, Post-Season/Series 03
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-09-01
Updated: 2016-11-15
Packaged: 2018-08-12 09:45:40
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 21
Words: 38,272
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7929994
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/divingbelle/pseuds/divingbelle
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Jack decides not to follow Phryne to London; Phryne reacts badly.  While Jack works to solve a particularly confusing case, his friends work to bring Phryne home and reconcile the two lovers.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. The Letter

**Author's Note:**

> After falling in love with these characters and watching as the writers do everything they can to keep these two apart, i couldn't help but try to fix it myself. This is my first ever fan fic, so comments/thoughts/suggestions would be greatly appreciated! Hopefully the characters read true.

My Dear Miss Fisher,  
How is London treating you? It must be a bright place, since it has stolen Melbourne’s brightest star. Home is much the same as it ever was, except the crim have rudely refused to decrease their illegal activities to account for your sudden departure. City South truly misses your expertise.  
I have thought long and hard about your request to follow you, my lonely heart warring against the better angels of my reason, and I’ve concluded that following you is at odds with the best romantic overture I can make. I still find your loss to be unbearable, and have learned long ago that turning away only causes us both pain. However, I also know that the thing you value above all, above whatever you may feel towards me, is your freedom. In Melbourne, I have my work, my friends, and what’s left of my life. In London, I would be tethered only to you. The chains I’d offer may be beautiful, but they would be shackles nonetheless.  
And so, my grand romantic overture is that I will not follow you. I will leave you to be free, to explore the wide world out there un-beholden to a pedestrian Detective Inspector a world away. Still, my heart will remain yours as long as you see a use for it.  
As I close this letter, I’m at a loss at how to address you. You know me well enough that one gaudy night would break what little of me is left, and I know you well enough that you wouldn’t have kissed me without intent of…something. Dare I speak to you as a lover? Old friends? Or, simply colleagues from an older time? Whatever your wish, I will accommodate. Your faithful servant awaits your response.   
Yours, JR

Phryne reread the letter for the hundredth time, sighing as she turned the crinkling paper in her hands. How many attempts did it take him to write this? She’d been in London for a month now, and away for two, and suspected he had begun writing the evening she left. There were no smears or crossed out words, suggesting he had torn through several (at least) versions until he had perfected the language. She wasn’t surprised at how sentimental the letter was. For all his inability to communicate with words, he was poetic and sentimental as Shakespeare himself. She had initially been surprised at just how much she missed him, but it hadn’t occurred to her that he might not follow her to London. Of course she knew logically that he wasn’t a man of means and the months away would wreak havoc on his career, but Jack had been able to work miracles before. Why couldn’t he now?  
Even worse, she realized, was that he was probably right in a way that suggested he knew her better than she knew herself. If he had come to London, he would have no choice but to follow her like a puppy. Such devotion would be pleasant at first, but would quickly become annoying and give her the excuse she desperately needed to push him away. If he had declined to follow because of money or work obligations, she would have been able to convince herself that they were just excuses and that he simply didn’t care enough. His response tore right through what she hadn’t even realized was a gambit.   
Phryne sighed again and leaned back in her chair, blinking back tears. She cursed quietly, wondering how she had let herself become one of those lovesick fools she had pitied for so long. No, she thought petulantly, this is not me. With a determination she didn’t quite feel, she sauntered over to her wardrobe. Fingering through the bright colors and luxurious fabrics, she chose the most eye-catching dress she could find. Tonight, the Honorable Miss Fisher would be seen, and if all went well, would not be coming back to her room alone. She dressed quickly and cabbed to a club she knew would fit the bill, doing everything she could to forget the brown curls and smirking mouth taunting her from the corner of her mind.


	2. The Bodies at the Docks

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jack and Hugh visit the crime scene

“Uh… Sir?”

Jack startled from behind his desk. His lack of sleep from the past few days must be catching up with him, since he hadn’t noticed the door open or his young constable step inside his office. He put down his file and cleared his throat. “Yes, Hugh?”

“It appears there has been another murder, sir.”

Jack had chastised Constable Collins for seeming excited for a murder in the past, so he tried his best to hide his relief at the distraction. “Well, off we go then.” Miss Fisher had been gone for months now, and not a word; no response or even acknowledgement that she had received the letter bearing his soul to her. He had brought it on himself, after all. He knew exactly who she was from day one, and had explicitly told her to live her life with no expectations on his part. But the lack of any word had left his imagination to run rampant in ways that wreaked havoc on his psyche. In some scenarios, she was dead, killed by London’s underground element or her rickety airplane. In others, she is in a passionate embrace with an English Baron or American film star, Jack’s meager kiss on the airfield all but forgotten. He shook his head and grabbed his hat and coat, hoping no one else could tell how out of sorts he was feeling. Hugh for his part was glad for the diversion as well, hating to see his mentor in such a state. He was helpless, wanting to do something, but not knowing what. At least Mac would be at the crime scene to collect the body; maybe she will have some news that would cheer the DI up.

Dr. Elizabeth MacMillan had arrived at the crime scene before Jack and Hugh, and was well into her preliminary assessment of the remains. There were two victims, one male and one female, half-undressed and slumped together in a grotesque imitation of intimacy. She knew without needing to look that the cause of death would be exsanguination from multiple stab wounds and that both would have splinters and paint chips under their fingernails. They were near the docks, in a side alley covered with trash that likely didn’t see many police patrols. They had only learned of the bodies from a drunken dockworker who took a wrong turn nearly tripped over them coming home from a nearby pub. She looked up and nodded at the policemen as they approached. “Same MO, gentlemen, and same non-descript dumping spot. Paint appears to be green this time.” Jack opened his mouth, thought for a minute, and closed it again while shifting awkwardly. He reminded Mac of a fish stuck on dry land, which probably wasn’t too far from the truth. 

“That makes three couples now, which doesn’t bode well. What color were the other paint chips again?”

Mac knew the answer, but kept quiet when she saw Hugh leafing through his notebook. “Uh, it looks like the first was blue, and the second a dark red.” His proud smile was lost on the inspector, who was again deep in his own thoughts. Mac cursed Phryne under her breath, and decided she would need to have a chat with the Detective Inspector. She didn’t have a soft spot for many people, but the DI was one of the few, especially knowing what he had put up with – and will continue to, if she had to wager – by being in love with her best friend. But his moping was also making her job harder; there were relatively few other officers with his competence, and no others who unflinchingly respected her expertise and credentials. She needed him to be on point for this investigation.

“The bodies have been stripped of their identification, but both look relatively healthy and well fed. Someone will notice them missing within the next day or two. Probably their spouses.”

“Spouses, Doctor?” Hugh glanced at their ringless fingers and gave Jack a questioning look.

Jack sneered at Hugh and pointed at the male victim’s hand. “Obviously. There are pale bands on the victims’ fingers where the rings should be.”  
Mac winced as the young constable face deflated and shot Jack a withering glare. Jack had many faults, but this kind of callousness was quite out of character. Things must be worse than she thought. To his credit at least, Jack realized his mistake and his face fell; clearly he was as disappointed in his response as Mack was. He turned to Hugh and smiled wanly.

“It’s obvious to me, Collins, because I’ve been doing this a long time. You’ll get there eventually.”

Mac cleared her throat. “Despite their compromising position, it is unlikely that the spouses are the culprits though. The overkill on the bodies at all three crime scenes suggest someone connected to all 6 victims.” Hugh was furiously taking notes while Jack knelt around the bodies, looking for as much evidence as he could without disturbing the scene. Every few minutes, he would look down and cradle his head in his hands as if to think. The way he shook his head when he came to confirmed Mac’s suspicious that it was not about his current investigation. “Robinson, I need to run a quick errand while you look around, but I shall see you in the morgue this afternoon.” Jack blinked, then nodded quickly. Her eyes softened just a little. “And to answer your question, no, I don’t know when she is coming back. I take it you haven’t heard from her recently?” Jack started to object that that he never asked, but knew there was no point. His cheeks flushed, and he averted his eyes.

“Ah…Thank you, Dr. MacMillan. No- I have not heard from her at all. If, when, there is news, you will likely hear well before I do. I must have offended her in some way.”  
Mac loved Phryne dearly, but was momentarily furious with her. No, she thought. This will not do at all. Mac left instructions with her staff on how to load the bodies and where in the morgue they were to be placed, and briskly walked back to her car.


	3. Mac's Plan

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Mac and Dot plan an intervention

Mac pulled into the driveway at Wardlow. She still wasn’t used to seeing the Hispano, tarped over and unused, a clearer indicator of Phryne’s absence than her perfectly maintained home. Mac didn’t know details, but Phryne had written some of what had transpired shortly after her arrival in London. Mac knew of the goodbye at the airfield, and of Phryne’s plea for Jack to come after her. She also knew that Jack had written to say he would not, and that Phryne had not taken it well. Her friend had not shared any of Jack’s reasons, but Mac suspected it had far more to do with Phryne’s insecurities than Jack’s commitment. Hopefully Dot would know more.

If Mr. Butler was surprised to see Mac at the door, he hid it impeccably. “Dr. MacMillan, how may I be of assistance? Can I get you something to drink?”

“No, thank you, my visit will be brief so I can get back to work. Is Mrs. Collins available?”

“Of course, she is in the parlor. Right this way.”

Unlike the butler, Dot made no attempt to hide her surprise or pleasure at Mac’s arrival. She had been sitting on the chaise mending clothes that Mac hadn’t seen Phryne wear in years.

Dot laughed at Mac’s quizzical stare. “Catching up on the backlog! I’m actually almost done. For as stylish as she is, you wouldn’t believe how hard Miss Fisher can be on her clothing.”

Having seen Phryne in action, Mac could absolutely believe it. “Have you heard from her lately? How are things in London?”

Dot chewed her lip in thought. “She says in her letters she is happy, but they don’t seem as genuine as the first few she sent. I don’t know how to explain it, but instead of talking about all the things she wanted to do and try, they just seem to be descriptions of parties she had to go to and people she met.” Dot smiled. “But if she says she is happy, I’m sure she is!”

Mac was torn between frustration and admiration for the girl’s naiveté, eventually settling on a mix of pity and affection. She decided to try a different tack. “How is Hugh doing? It must be hard on him and Inspector Robinson without Phryne to help. Not that he isn’t capable, but three minds are better than two!”  
“Yes, it’s been tough. Hugh is trying so hard, but it can be tough to keep up with the Inspector. I don’t know how Miss Fisher did it! Hugh will never say it, but I think he is worried he is letting the Inspector down at times.”

“Hugh is a good copper, Dottie, and isn’t disappointing Jack at all. When he has as many years under the belt as Jack does, he will be just as good. Jack has been especially moody lately, and we both know why. He just mentioned today she hasn’t even written him.” Dot’s lack of response suggested this information did not come as a surprise. “Dottie, please tell me what you know.”

“Well…” Dot gave Mac a measuring look, then nodded as she continued. “Hugh saw a crumpled up letter on the floor of Inspector Robinson’ office that I might have taken a look at. He wrote that he couldn’t go do London because it isn’t really what Miss Fisher wants. He wouldn’t know anyone or have anything to do, so he would just cling to her and she would get sick of him. I have to admit, he is probably right. But he also said he will be here waiting for her whenever she wanted him. He didn’t explicitly say he loved her, but…” Dot fidgeted uncomfortably as she trailed off.

“Dammit, Phryne,” Mac cursed under her breath. She agreed with Dot; if Jack had gone to London, leaving his work and his life behind, he would have only Phryne left. And Phryne didn’t do well with that kind of responsibility. “Well, Dottie, it looks like we have a job to do.”

“Job?”

“Yes, job. We need to make these two idiots get over themselves and get together before they drive us all insane.”

Dot giggled. “Just tell me what you need me to do, Doctor!”


	4. The Waltz

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Phryne looks for some distraction and finds more than she was bargaining for.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Note: there is minor violence in this chapter, but nothing our heroine can't easily dispatch.
> 
> This will be my last chapter today- i have quite a bit more written, but need to review and make sure it is up to snuff. As always, feedback is appreciated!

Phryne stirred in bed, and winced at the pounding in her head. Trying to reconstruct the events of the night before, she glanced around the room for telltale signs of company. She was alone. That’s good at least… isn’t it? She sat up, thankful that she had at least changed into her nightgown before collapsing into bed. Rubbing her eyes, she gradually pieced together the events of the previous evening.

-

She had gone to The Vine, a dark and swanky nightclub not far from her flat, with the intention of finding some company for the evening. She had danced, flirted, and even made the acquaintance of a beautiful young man who was more than happy to entertain her for a while.

After chatting over drinks, she learned that he was younger than she initially thought – barely 22 – and lived the life of vapid comfort that most of her colleagues in the city enjoyed so much. The life that she used to enjoy, but now found meaningless and boring. This boy spent his days in gambling and sports halls, and his evenings at charity functions or nightclubs looking for female company.

His flirting wasn’t refined, but given his chiseled features, it didn’t need to be. He would never want for lovers, and he was spending this evening chasing her. Phryne was pleased by this realization, and had subtly moved her stool closer to him until their thighs met. He smiled wickedly and put his hand on her knee, slowly inching it up her thigh.

“Miss Fisher, it looks like we both could use a dance.”

Phryne lifted her arm to him and looked up through her lashes. “I believe you are right. Lead on.”

He was a passable dancer, clearly more reliant on his charisma than technique. His leading arm was firm, however, and Phryne was able to follow easily. They danced, inching closer and closer, his hands trailing scandalously down his back to her hips. She leaned into him, breathing softly, while his lips ghosted along her neck and chin. She turned her face to him and her lips met his. The kiss was gentle and full of promise, and began to deepen as his arms ran up her sides, thumb catching the side of her breast in a way that could be played off as inadvertent if she objected. “You’re clearly an… adept… dancer,” she purred when they parted for breath. 

“Ah, but you haven’t seen my specialty, Miss Fisher. I do much better with older, more traditional… dances.” His exaggerated wink was meant to ensure Phryne caught his meaning, but ended up looking silly. She rolled her eyes once he returned his attentions to her neck.

They continued their dance to the side of the dance hall, leaning against the wall to be out of the way and somewhat anonymous in the dark. She was trying to relax, convincing herself to succumb to his advances, when the music slowed and the beat shifted. An alarm rang in the back of her mind.

He smiled rakishly. “Right on cue. A waltz.”

Phryne felt ill. She suddenly missed Jack desperately, and loathed herself for being in the arms of this smarmy child. She suddenly grabbed his face and kissed him as hard as she could, hoping to distract herself with the physical pleasure. It didn’t work, and only made the nausea worse. She pulled away and averted her head to hide her gag and welling eyes.

“I see you are as eager as I am. Shall we retreat to my place?”

She looked back up at him, realizing he would have only noticed the kiss, and not her visceral reaction to the music. He grabbed her face and dove back in, thrusting his tongue into her mouth. She stifled a sob and backed away, leaving him with a confused look on his face.

“Miss Fisher?”

“Ah, I’m so sorry… I’m suddenly not feeling myself. Please, please excuse me.”

His confusion quickly turned to anger as she turned to leave. He tightened his grip on her arm and thrust his other arm behind her head to pull her back for another kiss. When she continued to resist, he pinned against the wall by the shoulders, rage bubbling behind his eyes.

“Now my dear,” he hissed, barely audible above the music. “Your body has been making promises to me all evening. It’s now time for me to collect.” He dropped one hand to her breast, clasping it painfully, and began to force another kiss.

Phryne was in no mood to suffer his behavior. Before his lips caught hers, she cleared her throat and spat in his face, waiting for him to recoil slightly before violently thrusting her knee up into his crotch. He screamed in agony and dropped to his knees. The commotion couldn’t be missed. There were gasps around the room as the music halted, and patrons turned to see Phryne leaning languidly against the wall behind a man doubled over in pain. She smiled sweetly, lifting up one leg and resting a stiletto on the man’s shoulder for effect.

“Ladies, avoid this gentleman in the future. For some reason he seemed to think it was appropriate to try to take a lady’s dignity by force.”

Hundreds of disdainful eyes coalesced on the man in question. Phryne kicked her leg forward, toppling him over so he was curled up on the ground. She continued, clearly speaking to him but loud enough for the room to hear. “Don’t worry, my dear, it will heal in time. At least the tools will; hopefully the ego will take a good while longer.”

She pulled her lipstick out of her purse and reapplied it slowly for effect. Smacking her lips, she pushed herself off the wall and sauntered out of the club, head held high.

It wasn’t until she was safely back in her flat, clean-faced and wrapped in her black silk robe, that she finally allowed herself to cry. It wouldn’t be the endearing cinematic tears heartbroken heroines cried in the movies; these would be ugly, heaving sobs of anger and loneliness. She grabbed a tumbler off the bedside table and filled it with a generous helping of whisky, gulping it down faster than was healthy. She was mad at Jack for putting her in this position, winning her over only to leave her alone, completely unable to resume the lifestyle she so enjoyed before. But mostly, she was angry with herself, knowing she had shut Jack out the same way he had tried to do to her a year earlier. Was he still waiting for her as he had promised? No, not after months of silence. He was an attractive man and any number of women would be honored to step out with him. He had been tempted with Concetta, the beautiful widow who had offered to be his bride. Jack had turned her down, but more women would follow; it was only a matter of time.

She stifled another sob, refilling her glass and downing the amber liquid in two gulps. Thrusting her head into her pillow, she waited for the alcohol to take effect and allow her to drift into a restless sleep.

-

She mulled over the events of the night before as she dressed for the day, desperately wishing she had Mac to confide in. Mac would likely have smacked Phryne upside the head in her affectionate and forceful way, telling her to get over herself and talk to Jack. She would point out how selfish Phryne was being for letting something as stupid as pride get in the way of love when there were people who faced much bigger challenges. Phryne thought of Mac’s lover Daisy, and how Mac had to pretend they were nothing more than friends lest she lose her job or worse, get arrested.

Even in Phryne’s imagination, Mac was hard to refute. But the damage had been done, and she would just have to learn to live with it. Fortunately the day ahead was busy, and would keep her occupied. She would be meeting with solicitors and accountants for her family’s estate, finalizing the establishment of a trust from which her father would receive a generous but non-negotiable stipend.

Her father had luckily remained on his best behavior, a fact that Phryne suspected had less to do with his love for her mother than her ill-concealed bitterness towards him for ruining what she had been building with Jack. At first he hadn’t seemed to notice, but even someone as self-centered as the Baron eventually picked up on the behavioral changes in his daughter. She would forgive him eventually, like she always did. After all, he had done far worse things to her, hadn’t he? As she gathered her coat and locked the door behind her, she decided she wasn’t sure.


	5. The Ribbon Box

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you everyone for the encouragement! You feel a bit naked putting stories out for all to read, so I'm glad others are enjoying it as much as I'm enjoying writing it.

“You’ll work yourself to death if you keep this up, and then Phryne will never forgive me. Plus, slumping in the chair like that can’t be good for your back.”

Jack blinked and looked up to the red-haired woman in the tailored suit leaning against the doorframe to his office. He reached for a clean glass, filling it partway with whisky and gestured to Mac to sit down. She took the drink gratefully and leaned back in the chair.

“She wouldn’t, you know.”

“Wouldn’t what?”

“Forgive me. If anything happened to you.”

Jack scoffed and took a sip of his drink. “Right. Although she would have to remember who I was first.”

Mac was surprised by the bitterness of his response, but decided to go easy on the man. “Do you read any of London’s newspapers? I’m sure someone in your position tries to keep up with what’s going on overseas.”

Jack rubbed his eyes. What was she hinting at? Had she found a new Inspector to harass and solve crimes with? “Yes, as a matter of fact I do. But I can’t imagine London’s crime blotters would gush over a lady detective the way ours do.”

Mac rolled her eyes. “I was referring to the society pages. The ones that would be falling all over themselves to get the first picture of the Honorable Miss Fisher with a new beau.”

He’d be lying if he said he never looked. And while she had popped up once or twice (looking absolutely ravishing in dresses just this side of scandalous), sightings were rare and she was invariably alone.

Mac chuckled as she watched the gears turn in his head as he reached her intended conclusion. “There we are. Now does that sound like the Phryne Fisher we know? The woman who, in your imagination, has been entertaining… what was it… English Barons and American Movie Stars?”

He blushed, not realizing he had ever said those concerns aloud at all, let alone within earshot of her best friend. “No, I suppose it doesn’t,” he said glumly.

“No, it doesn’t,” Mac confirmed.

“It doesn’t matter. I’ve said my piece, and she didn’t care to respond. End of story. There’s nothing I can do.”

A third voice chimed in from right outside the doorway. “I beg your pardon, Inspector, but we disagree.”

Jack turned towards the door in surprise. “Mrs. Collins? What are you doing here? Hugh left hours ago!”

“I know, Inspector,” she replied sweetly. “Dr. MacMillan and I wanted to speak with you. Hugh knows I’m here, although he will deny it if you ask him. Now let’s go.”  
“Go? I have to finish up here!”

Mac glared at Jack. “When was your last decent meal, Inspector?” He shrugged sheepishly. “Exactly. Here will still be here tomorrow, and Mr. Butler’s gratin most certainly won’t be.”

“Wait, we are going to Miss Fisher's house? It just doesn’t seem right without her there.”

Dot giggled. “Nonsense! Mr. Butler would love the company. Besides, I have something to show you.”

Before Jack realized what was going on, he was being pulled up from his chair, shepherded out the door to his office, and onto the street where Mac’s car was parked. He sighed in defeat as he climbed into the passenger side of the car while Dot plopped happily in the back. At least Mac’s driving is better than her friend’s, Jack thought sardonically.

The butler must have heard the car approach, because he opened the door before they even needed to knock. He smiled as he gestured for them to come inside.  
Jack felt momentarily disoriented. The house was so familiar, it almost felt like home, and he almost expected to smell French perfume and see Phryne gliding down the stairs to welcome him. But at the same time it felt so empty, so quiet, and somehow wrong.

Mr. Butler shook Jack’s hand, then took his hat and overcoat to hang on the rack. “It’s been too long, Inspector. The house just doesn’t feel the same without your evening nightcaps.”

“Uh, thank you, Mr. Butler. But I’m sure it’s Miss Fisher’s absence, and not mine, that is so noticeable.”

Mr. Butler arched his eyebrow in response, but Dot’s call from the dining room stilled any continued conversations. “Dinner is ready!” Jack walked in to find four places set, glasses of wine already poured. It must be a notable occasion, he thought, if they were able to convince Mr. Butler to join them for the meal. He didn’t notice the older man’s wink to the two women seated next to him.

“Mrs. Collins, you mentioned you had something you want to show me?”

“After dinner, Inspector.” She refilled his wine even though it was only half-empty. “Why don’t you tell me a little about the case you’ve been working on? Hugh says it’s quite baffling.”

Jack paused, but decided there was no harm in discussing it, even if it was a police matter. Dr. MacMillan would hear it anyway in the morgue, and Dot had probably already needled more out of Hugh than the poor constable realized.

“It is. And this was our third crime scene in as many months, all clearly the work of the same person.”

“That’s terrible! How can you be sure?”

“The victims are always in pairs, and appear to be… lustfully compromised. And have paint chips under their fingernails.”

“Fascinating! If only Miss Fisher were here to help! Of course, not that I’m suggesting you and Hugh can’t manage this on your own, but you know what I mean.”  
Jack couldn’t help but smile. She was becoming more like her mentor than she realized.

“Yes, her alternative approach to investigation would certainly be helpful, and she would be thrilled by the case particulars. But we don’t have any clues or solid leads at the moment. If he keeps to schedule it could be weeks before he attacks again.”

“Weeks, Inspector? That long?” Mac shot a glance at the butler, who quietly excused himself from the table.

“Yes. We don’t yet know if it is because he stalks his victims, if the date is important, or if he is simply tied to a schedule for work purposes. All are equally likely. We just know it is a male, likely in his 30s who is strong enough to subdue two people at once, and somehow came in contact with all six of the victims.” Satisfied she had learned everything she could, Dot steered the conversation to more social topics. They talked about the hospital, Hugh and Dot’s newlywed life together, Jack’s garden. As much as she wanted to ask him about Miss Fisher, she avoided that topic all together. That would come later.

After Dot had brought them all dessert of ice cream and cobbler, Mr. Butler reappeared and asked if they wanted to retire to the parlor for drinks. “In a minute, Mr. B. Jack, would you mind coming upstairs with me for a moment?”

Jack nearly choked on his drink. “Uhhh….upstairs? I hardly think that’s appropriate, Mrs. Collins.”

Mac snorted. “Stop it, Inspector. I’m going too, so I will be there to supervise.” She winked at Dot mischievously. “Besides, we all know you’ve been in Phryne’s boudoir before.”

He turned beet red. “In an official capacity!” he stuttered, but Mac and Dot had already begun to ascend the stairs and he had no choice but to follow.

The room was tidier than he remembered, but still faintly smelled of her perfume. He was surprised at how many mementos and other things of clear emotional value had remained behind, but given the size of her plane, she likely had no choice. He didn’t let himself believe it meant she would be coming home soon. Dot walked over to her vanity and picked up the small jewelry box Jack knew held Janey’s blue hair ribbon.

“Open it.”

“Wouldn’t that be prying?”

Dot shrugged. “Absolutely, but I couldn’t care less. Especially since you already know what’s in it. Well, some of what’s in it at least.”

He took the box and held it gingerly. He shot Dot an exasperated look “You’re a lot more like Miss Fisher than you think!” 

Dot grinned proudly, while Mac smirked and rolled her eyes. “I’m waiting, Inspector.” He slowly opened the lid. Sitting on top was the baby blue ribbon and a short note in a child’s hand that could have only come from her cousin Arthur. There was a photo from Dot’s wedding, and a much older one of Mac and Phryne during the war, both in medic uniforms, smiling at the camera. What he didn’t expect to see were the pictures of him, all lovingly clipped from various newspaper articles. There was one from the Lydia Andrews case, the first they worked together, another from the Sanderson case, and even the shot from the Globe, when they had been ambushed by Burn. He thought of the book next to his bed, with the mugshots Hugh had taken of her those years ago nestled between the pages. His stomach dropped to his toes. There he was, kept safe in a box with things that meant the most to her.

Jack felt his legs starting to give out, and stumbled to the edge of the bed to sit down. He set the box down next to him and rested his elbows on his knees, cradling his head in his hands. Mac sat down next to him and sighed. “I told you she wouldn’t forgive me if anything happened to you. She’s quite the pain in the ass, isn’t she?”

Jack smirked, but the humor didn’t reach his eyes. There was no point in pretending. “I… I just don’t know if I can keep up this dance. Just when I start to let myself hope, something happens to wash it away. I tried to leave her be, I tried to pursue her, and I even tried spill my heart to her, but…” he trailed off and looked down at his hands. “But nothing seems to matter.”

“Did you mean what you said in the letter you wrote her? That you’re yours as long as she needs you?” The concern in Dot’s voice was unmistakable.

Jack’s eyes widened in panic. “Wait… how did you…?” Jack sighed. “Never mind. Yes, I meant it.”

Mac chose her words carefully. “This whole thing is very new to Phryne, and I suspect she is more than a bit panicked about it. After all, it is terrifying to realize someone else knows you better than you know yourself. Just give her time.”

“Well, I don’t exactly have a choice. She is a world away, after all, and who knows when she will come back.” There was a knock at the door, and Mr. Butler walked into the room.

Mac smiled. “It may be sooner than you suspect. Is that a telegram I see in your hand, Mr. Butler?”

“Yes, Doctor, it is. Miss Fisher replied quite quickly!”

Mac unfolded the slip of paper and handed it to Jack.

FASCINATING Stop OF COURSE I’LL HELP Stop LEAVING SOON, GIVE EVERYONE MY LOVE Stop

The color drained from Jack’s face and he wasn’t sure whether to be relieved or furious. “What have you done?”

“What I should have done months ago!” Mac chortled and clapped him on the back. Dot simply smiled sweetly.

Jack looked up at Mr. Butler, who was as impassive as ever. “Et tu, Brute?”

The butler bowed, and simply responded “I’m just here to serve Miss Fisher. Nightcap, anyone?”

Jack just shook his head. “No, I’ve had enough for one night. I should get going.

“Your loss, Inspector. But since I drove you here, let me at least take you back to the station to get your car.”

“No, thank you, Doctor. It’s not a long walk and the weather is pleasant. I think I need the air.”

“Suit yourself.”

After he had left, Dot chewed on her lip and turned to Mac. “Do you think we did the right thing? Miss Fisher would be furious if she knew we had gone into her room like that.”

“Without question.”

Dot and Mac both looked up at Mr. Butler, surprised it was he who had responded.

“Absolutely. He probably didn’t realize he was still within earshot, but I don’t think I have ever heard the Inspector whistle before.”


	6. Loose Ends

Phryne was exhausted, and her patience nearly gone by the time she returned to her flat. She had known her father would fight every step of the way as they set up his finances, but she hadn’t realized it would be as tiring as it was. It had taken hours, but finally expenses were defined and itemized (“no, father, alcohol cannot be debited to the food budget”), and stipends were established for each member of the household. Her one concession was a quarterly “bonus” for good behavior, which must be approved by the Baroness, majordomo, and solicitor before it was to be disbursed. At one point, she had gotten so frustrated with her father that she had quipped that if he wanted to be treated like a child, she would be happy to oblige. She then arranged with the accountant to be given periodic updates on the accounts. Hopefully, with this level of oversight, the Baron would be safe from himself.

With this Herculean task out of the way, Phryne finally allowed herself to start thinking of her trip back home. The thought surprised her- when had Melbourne become the place she clearly saw as her home? Her parents, friends, and peers all lived in London, and she had spent far more time in Paris, but neither city felt as right as Melbourne did. She thought back to Dot and Hugh, Mr. B, Mac, even Bert and Cec, and smiled at the little family she had built for herself. Yes, it was time to go back.

As she hung her shawl up on the rack by the door, Beth, Phryne’s young housekeeper curtsied and handed her a slip of paper. “Telegrams just arrived for you, Miss!”

“More than one?”

“Yes, two. But they both came from a Dr. MacMillan. He must fancy you, Miss!”

Phryne laughed at the housekeeper’s mistake. “Oh, Mac! But yes, *she* may have fancied me once, but she isn’t quite my type.” The poor girl turned beet red and crossed herself when Phryne clarified her friend’s gender.

Good thing I haven’t been bringing gentleman callers home, Phryne thought, otherwise Beth might have had a heart attack. And she wasn’t certain the housekeeper would be as tight lipped as Dot turned out to be. Turning back to the task at hand, Phryne opened the longer telegram.

SERIAL KILLER IN MELBOURNE Stop 3 CRIME SCENES 6 VICTIMS 3 MONTHS Stop SUGGESTIVE POSING OF BODIES Stop POLICE MIGHT NEED HELP Stop V/R DR MACMILLAN

Phryne was a little confused by the formality of the telegram, but shrugged and opened the second.

WILL YOU TWO JUST GET TOGETHER ALREADY Stop I CAN HEAR YOU PINING FROM MELBOURNE Stop DON’T BE AN IDIOT Stop LOVE MAC

Ah. So the first was probably written for an audience larger than just her, while the second was for her eyes only. Although she had to wonder what state Jack must be in for Mac to be interceding on his behalf. Knowing him, he was likely moping around, barking at poor Hugh and forgetting to eat. She quickly jotted down her response and handed it to Beth, She thought for a moment, and then grabbed her shawl and turned back to the door. There were travel arrangements to make.

“Oh! Beth, I just remembered, I have one more telegram! Please send this to my butler in Melbourne” Phryne grabbed a pen from the hall table and wrote in her neat hand “MR. BUTLER PLEASE MAKE SURE JACK EATS! Stop HE WON’T DO IT HIMSLEF.”

Satisfied, she waltzed out the door leaving Beth standing in the hallway wondering what just happened.

Once Phryne had determined that speed was more important than comfort, the trip was relatively easy to book. She would hopscotch from London to Ceylon in her airplane, and then board an ocean liner to Melbourne. She loved her little plane, but didn’t want to risk another long flight over the water if she didn’t need to. If all went according to plan, she would be home in a month. The easy part was over; now she had to tell her parents she would be leaving London –permanently- in two days.  
-

The Baroness raised an eyebrow when Phryne arrived at the Manor in the same clothes she had been wearing earlier that day. Phryne just smiled and explained that her errands had just taken a little longer than she expected, and it was only a family dinner. The dinner had been Phryne’s mother’s idea, intended as a peace offering to help soothe over any lingering animosity between father and daughter. Phryne had initially regretted agreeing to it, but it did provide a good opportunity to share her travel plans with her family in a somewhat controlled setting.

Dinner was quiet, but Phryne didn’t mind. The Baron would occasionally gripe that his new budget wouldn’t allow them to have such fine meals in the future, but was rewarded only by glares from Phryne and eye rolls from his wife. Phryne decided to raise the subject as their plates were being cleared for dessert.

“So, I’ve decided I will be returning to Melbourne.”

Phryne’s mother shot a concerned glance at the Baron before replying. “But Phryne, dear, you’ve only been here a few months. And I can’t imagine Melbourne has the kinds of opportunities for you as London does. Besides the only family you have down there is your Aunt Prudence.”

Phryne knew her response would be cruel, but decided to continue anyway. “You haven’t forgotten my Jane, have you mother?” Of course, Phryne was referring to her ward, who was currently at school in Paris, but it would be impossible for her mother not to draw the connection with Phryne’s murdered sister. “Besides, I’m happy there and I can be myself. They may not be blood, but I have my own makeshift family to keep me happy.” 

The Baroness’ jaw dropped for a moment before she regained composure. “No, of course I haven’t forgotten Jane. How are her classes coming along?”

“Very well. Her French is almost fluent, and she is already making plans to attend University in a few years. Right now she is fascinated by literature, and has picked up Jack’s love of Shakespeare.”

Dammit. She hadn’t realized she had mentioned his name until her father almost choked on his wine. The practiced smile on her mother’s face suggested that he told his wife of their amorous goodbye on the airfield so many months ago.

“Speaking of Jack, you do know that it will be near impossible to find an appropriate suitor in Melbourne. You are a Peer of the British Empire, after all, dear.”

Phryne shot her mother a smile that was anything but. “You know, it is amazing how there can be such a distinction between peers of title and peers of quality”, she said sweetly. “At any rate, that is a sacrifice I shall have to make, since I am leaving Thursday morning.”

The Baron decided to join the conversation. “Thursday morning? That’s in less than two days!”

“Sorry, father, but it couldn’t be helped if I am going to meet my ship in Ceylon.”

“But it means we won’t have time for a proper send off, my dear” her mother tried, appealing to Phryne’s well known love of parties. “There have been several dashing young men lamenting that they haven’t had the chance to try to woo you.”

“Just saving them the effort, mother.”

“There’s no way I can change your mind?”

“No.”

The rest of the meal was uneventful. If anything, her father was on his best behavior, not wanting to pick fights now that she would be leaving so soon. Shortly after dessert, Phryne excused herself to pack and make final arrangements. She would be home soon.


	7. The Wait

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry about the delay! I've been traveling and hadn't had much internet access. Anyway, I know Jack will be a little all over the place in the next few chapters, but given how much he tends to wrap himself around the axle, it seems to make sense. No reunion yet, but it's coming!

Jack had felt wonderful as he left Phryne’s home that night, but the feeling faded as the days ticked on. Left alone with his thoughts, he again imagined the different fascinating people that would be pursuing Miss Fisher, unable to see how he could compete. It didn’t help that he still hadn’t heard anything from her. He knew she had probably begun her trip home, but had no idea how or when she would be arriving.

Fortunately, work had been busy and regularly bled into his evenings. He had gotten into the habit of sending Hugh home at the end of his shift, staying late himself to complete paperwork and other administrative tasks. He figured he would be lonely anyway; no reason to do the same to Hugh when he needed the distraction. He had noticed that Dot, or sometimes even Mr. Butler himself, would occasionally arrive with a basket of home-cooked food, but he assumed Dot had been thanking him for the additional time with her husband.

The murderer he had been chasing had gone quiet; Jack figured if he kept to schedule, there would be a few weeks before the next crime scene appeared. He had gone over the case files again and again, but was unable to find anything new, and the trail had gone cold. He found himself almost wishing for another victim to provide additional clues, disappointed that he could even think such a grisly thought. There had been a few other cases: a couple of murders, some petty theft and a blackmail attempt, but nothing that had taken him more than a couple of days to solve.

Three weeks after his dinner with Mac and Dot, Hugh peeked into Jack’s office with a distinctive slip of paper in his hand. He cleared his throat and handed it to his boss. “Uh, this just arrived for you sir. I believe it is from Miss Fisher.”

Jack took the telegram, not wanting to risk opening it under the concerned eyes of the junior officer. “Thank you Collins. That will be all.”

Hugh stood still for a minute, unsure whether to press the DI for more information. Jack gave the constable a firm stare. “Yes, Collins?”

“Uh, nothing sir. Sorry sir.” He left the office and returned to his post at the desk, keeping an eye on Jack’s door.

Jack sighed and sat back in his chair, not knowing what to expect. Well, if she sent it herself, it means she wasn’t trapped in the smoldering wreckage of that death trap of an airplane.  
ARRIVING MELBOURNE PORT SATURDAY AT SUNSET stop MEET ME PLEASE stop YOURS, PF

It was only noon, but Jack poured a finger of whisky to calm his nerves. Why him? She had not one, but two cabbies in her employ, what did she need him for? From the front of the police station, he heard Hugh enthusiastically greet Dot, who must have come to drop off his lunch. Good timing, he thought. Maybe she knows something more.

Before he had a chance to call her over, Dot bounced into his office. “Isn’t it great, Inspector? Miss Fisher will be home in less than a week! And it was so kind of you to offer to pick her up at the docks, what with Mr. Butler and me prepping the house for her welcome home party and Bert and Cec picking up Mrs. Stanley!”

Ah, he thought bitterly. Her request that he meet her at the docks was one of convenience, nothing more. Dot watched Jack’s face as it lit with hope, then fell to disappointment and anger, and knew that whatever was going through his mind wasn’t good. 

“I’m sure she is looking forward to speak with you… alone. It has been a while, after all.” She then winked at him, the suggestive comment surprising even her. “Oh! Mr. Butler wanted me to give you this. Apparently Miss Fisher was very specific about you being healthy and well-fed when she got home.” Jack didn’t need to open the basket to know that it would contain his favorite ham and mustard pickle sandwiches. He blushed and cleared a space on the desk for his lunch.

“Thank you, Mrs. Collins. But yes, well, it will be good to have her back.”

The week crawled by, and Jack could feel the panic starting to rise as Saturday approached. He spent Saturday nervously neatening his little bungalow just to keep himself distracted. He told himself that the handful of flowers he snipped from his garden and arranged in his parlor were to brighten the space, not because he secretly hoped she might finally step inside. It was still late afternoon when he left for the docks, but he didn’t want to risk the ship arriving early and Miss Fisher thinking she was stranded. He didn’t care if he was tipping his hand about how much he missed her; she would eventually deduce that for herself. She was a detective, after all.

He kept off to the side as the crowds began to gather, not wanting to get in the way of families waiting for loved ones. The excited buzz on the docks helped to calm his nerves a little, but he still couldn’t help pacing nervously and chewing on his fingernails. A little earlier than he had anticipated, the ship appeared on the horizon, and the excitement on the shore increased. As it came close enough to make out features, onlookers started waving and shouting, pointing out familiar faces on the deck. Jack scanned the crowd, but didn’t see her.

Once the ship had docked and passengers disembarked, Jack watched the reunions beside him. There were hugs, laughter, tears, and even kisses as sweethearts reunited. His heart fell, remembering how he had imagined this day hundreds of times, meeting her at the docks and kissing her passionately. But that was not to be, and he was determined to remain stoic and detached. Eventually he saw a familiar black bob appear on the gangplank.

Her eyes darted around the docks looking for him. Once she saw him, she tilted her head and turned her lips up into a shy smile. She carried only a small clutch, no doubt leaving her luggage to porters to deliver to her home later. Jack could do nothing but stare at her, his mouth slightly open at the sight. Even though he had seen her in his mind’s eye every day for the past four months, he had forgotten how beautiful she was in person. Her skin was more tanned than it was before, almost glowing against the crisp white pantsuit she wore. She was far enough away that he could openly gaze at her, lifting his eyes from her legs up to the wide brimmed sunhat she wore. The thing that caught his gaze the longest was the small pin attached to her chest, glittering silver and blue against the otherwise monochrome outfit.


	8. Homecoming

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This was a hard chapter to figure out how to write, but hopefully it makes sense! There is a lot that needs to be worked out between these two, and they aren't always the best about being on the same page and communicating what's going on in their heads.

Phryne could tell the moment Jack saw her, and couldn’t help but to smile at the way he openly admired her from afar. His eyes lit up at the sight of the swallow pin; good, she thought, he had caught her little message. As she approached, his smile disappeared, and his face turned blank and impassive. She was suddenly wracked with insecurity, a feeling she didn’t like it one bit. In an attempt to hide her discomfort, she ran to him, throwing her arms around his neck and giggling like a child. He froze at first but recovered quickly, wrapping his arms around her waist and shifting his stance to accommodate her weight. The embrace lasted only a few seconds, and she stepped back to put a more appropriate distance between them.

“Jack, it’s good to see you. I’ve missed you”

He nodded woodenly and offered her his arm, adopting his best “official” voice to hide his swelling emotion. “I suppose I’ve missed you too. But there is a whole group of people who have missed you just was much waiting for you back at home.”

She took his arm and pressed against his side, batting her eyelashes. “Just as much, Jack?”

He blushed and looked down, trying to keep the tone light. “You’ll just have to find out, Miss Fisher.”

They arrived at the car too soon for Phryne’s taste, and she reluctantly released his arm as he reached for the car door. She was rewarded by his hand on the small of her back, and almost shivered at the touch. She smiled broadly at up him from the seat, but Jack looked away awkwardly, embarrassed that his arm had betrayed him.

The ride to Wardlow took only a few minutes, but Phryne spent it lost in thought. She knew she was looking forward to seeing Jack again, but was surprised at just how much. She felt like an awkward school girl, insecure and shy, analyzing Jack’s every tic and facial expression for insight into his thoughts. She was worried; he was reserved and closed off, probably overthinking things in a way that rarely came out in her favor. She really didn’t blame him- after disappearing for months, he couldn’t help but assume she had moved on. Hopefully tonight she would be able to convince him just how wrong that assumption was.

Jack parked along the street, and opened the car door to escort Phryne to her home. She took his arm gladly, clinging to him in a way that seemed to surprise him. Mr. Butler was waiting for them, opening the door before even needing to knock. He gave Phryne a warm hug, shook Jack’s hand, and led them into the parlor where their friends were waiting.

The party was in full swing by the time they arrived. In a rare show of comradery, Hugh was discussing football with Bert and Cec, while Mac was arguing with Aunt Prudence about something going on at the hospital. Dot flitted about the room, making sure drinks were full and plates were cleaned. Once they saw her enter the doorway, all conversation stopped and a cheer rang through the crowd. Jane, who had been helping Dot, squealed and threw herself at Phryne, bowling her into Jack. Jack was able to stabilize them both, then stepped out of the way so not to interrupt the reunion.

Phryne was like a victorious queen returning home from battle. She held court, almost floating around the room, greeting everyone and catching up on months of gossip, stories, and events. Dot gushed about married life, with Hugh standing happily but awkwardly by her side. Mac talked about her work at the morgue, as well as some of the more interesting cases at the hospital while Aunt Prudence clucked at her for sharing privileged information. Even Bert and Cec took a brief break from arguing about football to back brief their employer on any intelligence they had uncovered during the course of their usual cab work.

Jack leaned in the doorway to the parlor, watching the festivities from a distance. Periodically he would catch Phryne’s eye, nod or raise his drink in acknowledgement and return to his quiet observation. Now that she was home, she somehow felt farther away than ever. Here was this vibrant woman, a peer of the British Empire wrapped in clothes that cost at least a month’s salary, regaling her friends and family with her adventures traveling the world. He wasn’t poor per se, but he certainly wasn’t a man of means. He was also woefully untraveled (outside the war, of course), and lived an introspective life that she would find painfully dull and confining. It wasn’t that Jack was unfamiliar with the world of privilege; after all as the son in law of the Commissioner, he had attended his fair share of parties and galas. But he had always felt out of place, acutely aware that this world wasn’t his. 

Jack was yet again torn between reality and how he had hoped their reunion would go. While Phryne didn’t ignore him, she didn’t stay by his side, curled against his arm like he had secretly hoped he would. Tonight he was part of her life, sure, but seemingly no different from the rest of her friends and family. And so he watched from the sidelines, debating with his insecurities until he had convinced himself that was all he was. After all, he had already left one woman lonely and unfulfilled; it would break his heart to do the same to Miss Fisher. 

Phryne, for her part was blissfully unaware that Jack was tying himself in knots from the corner. She focused on reuniting with her friends; she would save her reunion with Jack for the relative privacy of their evening nightcap. He was a private man by nature, and she wasn’t sure how much he would want to broadcast to the world, especially until they had the chance to sort out what exactly they were to each other. And even if he didn’t mind public shows affection, he would certainly object to others seeing just how she intended to welcome him home. She smiled at the thought, briefly imagining Jack, shirt unbuttoned and hair tousled, lips dancing against her neck. She shot him a seductive glance, gently raising her glass to toast from across the room. Jack looked distracted, but smiled and raised his glass in acknowledgement.

As the hour got later, and Jane said her goodnights, she surprised Jack by stopping on her way upstairs and giving him a heartfelt hug. “It’s like I’m getting two presents for the price of one, Inspector! Now that Miss Fisher is back, I get you back too! Maybe next time you are here in the evenings, we can work on some recitation? We are going over some monologues in school that I think you would love!”

Jack was touched by the girl’s admiration, but didn’t have the heart to tell her that his arrangement with Miss Fisher might not be as intimate as it once was. “I would like that very much, Jane.”

Shortly after Jane retired, Jack waited for a moment when Phryne was deep in an animated debate between Mac and Mrs. Stanley, and wouldn’t see him leave. He shot Mr. Butler an apologetic glance and quietly slipped out the door feeling raw and incredibly alone. Phryne would be furious, but he didn’t have the courage to face her yet.

Phryne felt his absence almost immediately, seeing his spot in the doorway empty and the rack void of his signature coat and hat. Her stomach dropped and she suddenly wished her own welcoming party would end. She had taken for granted that Jack would be the last guest to leave, giving them ample time for a nightcap to catch up on both cases and lost time. But instead, he slipped out without a word, leaving her alone in a house full of people. She ticked through potential reasons in her head, discounting each one. It wasn’t police-related, otherwise Hugh would have left as well. It wasn’t early, but it wasn’t particularly late, and he wasn’t expected at the station tomorrow. Could he have a date? She couldn’t discount it outright, but surely someone would have told her if Jack had begun seeing another woman. The disconnect between the happiness in his eyes when she walked off the ship and his stilted, sterile conversation left her confused and slightly panicked.

Mac caught Dot’s attention, tilting her head to the empty door and rolling her eyes. They both got to work cleaning out the remaining guests, with Mac practically begging the red raggers to drive her and Mrs. Stanley home. Dot enlisted Hugh to help clean up the room and herd guests to the door. As Dot ushered everyone out, Mr. Butler handed a confused Phryne a hamper.

“Mr. B? What’s this?”

“I noticed you and the Inspector were unable to have your nightcap here with all the commotion, so I’ve packed some drinks and snacks to take with you.”

“You truly are a national treasure, Mr. Butler,” Dot declared before Phryne had a chance to respond, proud of herself for co-opting her employer’s favorite compliment. “Come, Miss Fisher, I’ll help you carry it to the Hispano.”

A bewildered Phryne was then shepherded out her car, with her own door closing behind her and her family happily disappearing into the night. Not knowing what else to do, she shrugged and turned the key, sailing out of the driveway and towards an address she’d only seen on the back of Jack’s letter.


	9. The Nightcap

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the super long chapter, but a lot needed to happen! Anyway, this was a long time coming.

Jack’s thoughts were bouncing through his head too violently to sleep, so he poured two fingers of whisky and nestled into his overstuffed chair with a book. He had removed his shirt and jacket, relaxing in his undershirt and slacks. Only about a half hour or so later, (he had only read the page he was on three times) there was a quiet knock at the door. Please, no, he thought, as he opened the door. Don’t let it be her. 

“Hello, Jack”

“Miss Fisher, what a surprise. Isn’t it rude to leave a party in your honor when it is still at full swing?”

She smirked and bumped him playfully with her shoulder. “I don’t know, Jack, isn’t it also rude to leave other people’s parties without saying goodbye? But strangely enough, it ended shortly after you left.” Jack cocked his head in confusion, but she shrugged. She didn’t really understand herself what had happened, so she certainly wasn’t going to try to explain it to him. She proudly held up the hamper. “You left before we had our nightcap, so I brought it with me!” She stood in the doorway expectantly. “Well, aren’t you going to invite me inside?”

Jack stammered something that might have been an invitation inside, but could just as easily been a request to leave. As he sputtered, Phryne simply smiled and stepped past him into the room. The house was simple but welcoming, exactly what she imagined Jack’s house to be. The door opened into a large living room, decorated with well-used chairs circling a blue area rug and small wooden table. One side of the room was covered in bookshelves that framed a fireplace. The other was decorated with paintings and photographs, with a small upright piano pushed into the corner. “How did you know where I live?”

“It was in your letter, or course.”

Jack fidgeted, and Phryne saw traces of anger and sadness cross his face. “Ah, that. I wasn’t sure if you received it. Apologies for any discomfort it may have caused. You needn’t worry; I won’t raise that ghost again.

Phryne stepped towards him, reaching her arm out to try to catch his. “Jack, I…” But Jack interrupted her before she could finish.

“Excuse me a minute, I need to fetch us some glasses.” Jack turned and walked down the hall, stepping into a room towards the back that she figured was the kitchen.

Phryne knew he had seen the pair of tumblers in her hamper, but his rough voice was enough to let her know his departure was more about composure than glassware. While she waited, Phryne unpacked her basket onto the table in the room, amazed at what Mr. Butler put together in so short a time. There was a bottle of whisky, a batch of Dot’s drop biscuits, some assorted meats and cheeses, and a bowl of fruit.

After several minutes, Jack returned with two glasses, which Phryne filled with a generous helping of whisky. She had already pulled the table away from the chairs and was seated on the floor with her legs folded under her. When Jack tried to sink into a chair, Phryne beckoned him to the floor, explaining that it would be easier to reach the food from that level. Jack gave her a skeptical glance, but joined her nonetheless. She was disappointed, but certainly not surprised, that he had chosen a spot on the other side of the table where she couldn’t find easy excuses to touch him. 

“I hear this most recent case is quite problematic. Perhaps I can be of assistance?”

Jack, grasping for a distraction and some sense of normalcy, was more than happy to humor her just this once. He grabbed a manila folder from one of the bookshelves and spread its contents out on the table for Phryne to review. If he noticed when she moved to his side of the table to get a closer look, he didn’t comment. He described the crime scenes, the paint chips, and missing wedding rings. Phryne listened intently, nodding thoughtfully with each increasing detail.

“Well, as you no doubt suspect, I would check the clubs. But not the reputable ones where you go to be seen; the ones where you can remain deliciously anonymous. Ones that have private rooms in the back” She exaggerated her enunciation of the last sentence, leaning into Jack’s shoulder with her sultriest gaze.

Jack had already concluded as much, but pressed her to see if her logic was the same as his. 

“What makes you say that?”

“The colors. I could see maybe one or two rooms in a house being decorated with dark blues reds or greens, but all three is too much. If his hunting ground was the safety of a house, wouldn’t he use the same room, resulting in only one color of paint? Plus, it is pretty clear that while each of our victims were a couple, they did not want to be seen in their dalliances, lest word get back to their spouses. They wanted to be able to go out and behave as lovers without the unfortunate consequences”

“Do you suspect a jilted lover?”

“Someone who feels jilted, yes. But probably not someone with a direct connection to your victims.” She leaned her head in so it almost rested against Jack’s, and brought her fingers up to caress his bare finger where his wedding ring once sat. She furrowed her brow in thought while her fingertips danced across his hand and forearm “I’d wager an employee who has bounced between clubs, enough to get to know the clientele and their backstories. Someone who knows their schedules and when to offer the use of a back room to a particularly amorous looking couple. A back room that shelters the noise and can be locked from the outside.”

Her voice had gotten breathier and quieter as she brought her lips towards his neck, the last sentence whispered to spot just where his jaw met his ear. Her fingers had gradually twined around his whole hand as she started to guide it towards her waist. Jack didn’t resist, but she felt his jaw lock and his muscles tense underneath her.

His voice was a pained whisper. “Phryne, please. Don’t.”

She startled at the use of her name, not willing to let go. She placed his hand on her hip and leaned back to see his face. “But… you said…” She looked up to see the sadness in his eyes. “Isn’t this what you want?” 

Her voice was confused and scared. During her lonelier nights on the trip home it had occurred to her that Jack may have moved on, but she had done everything she could to banish the thought. 

Jack nodded, his lips tightening into a grimace and eyes grazing the floor. “More than anything,” he whispered. Encouraged by his response, she tried again. She leaned in and brushed her lips against his neck, only to feel him flinch and recoil like her very touch burned his skin. Her eyes swelled and for a second she was grateful she was at too severe an angle for him to see the tears threatening to break loose. He tore away from her, standing up and turning away with his hands crossed against his chest.

“Please, Phryne. I can’t do this. We can’t do this.”

“Don’t I get a say in that too?”

“Your silence said enough.”

Phryne stood, but didn’t close the distance between them. She pulled a crinkled and faded note from inside her blouse and in a voice cracking with tears began to read. “I will leave you to be free, to explore the wide world out there un-beholden to a pedestrian Detective Inspector a world away. Still, my heart will remain yours as long as you see a use for it.” She leaned over and delicately lay the letter on top of the case file. “Jack, I’m here, asking for it.” She paused, waiting for him to respond. After a moment of awkward silence, she looked down at her hands. “What’s changed?”

As much as he meant what he had written, he had never expected to hear his own words used against him. He didn’t turn to face her, but spoke firmly. “It’s been months, Miss Fisher. No word to let me know if you were alive or dead, if you received my letter, or even cared about me. About us. My feelings have not changed, but yours must have.” Jack looked up and swallowed in an attempt to stabilize his voice. “Before you left, it seemed we could make it work…. I thought you…” He paused to collect his thoughts. “I was wrong.”

Phryne had never felt as ugly as she did while he spoke. Her instincts were screaming at her to bare her teeth like the cornered animal she was, and saunter out the door with a “sayonara”. Another part of her knew he was right and wanted to gather him in her arms and pepper him with kisses and apologies until he believed her. They were finally standing on the edge of the cliff they had danced around for months. Years, if she was being honest. She bent her knees and clenched her arms around her legs making herself as small as she felt. Her cheeks were hot with tears and smeared with mascara. She whispered softly enough that he had to face her to hear her words. “No, you weren’t wrong. I…” The words were on her tongue, but she couldn’t force them out. “I was scared. I am scared.” 

Jack scoffed. He was angry now. “You’ve been shot at, kidnapped, poisoned… Even Foyle, the boogeyman hiding under your bed since you were a child, was no match for the brave Miss Phryne Fisher.” He paused for effect. “But you’re scared of me,” he added, voice dripping with disdain.

Jack had never seen her look so helpless and childlike curled up on his floor, eyes smeared and puffy. But in a heartbeat, her demeanor shifted. Gone was the helpless little girl, and in her place sat a woman of steel and ice, larger than life, defiant and strong despite her tears. Her nervous twitches had stilled, and her voice could have cut class. “The boogeyman wasn’t just *under* my bed, Jack. If you recall, men who claim to care for me have caused me a great deal of pain.” 

It was Jack’s turn to feel small, remembering the abject terror on her face when Rene Dubois walked into Café Replique. Her words had cut, but worse was the hurt just barely visible in her eyes. She’d done many things to drive him mad during their partnership, but she’d never hidden from him. Phryne, it’s just me, his mind screamed. Since when did you need to wear a mask with me?

“You know I would never do that.”

Her tone was almost condescending. “Of course, just like you know the war’s been over for years. But that doesn’t mean you don’t still panic at an ill-timed gunshot or a muddy trench. I’ve never judged you for it; please afford me the same courtesy.”

She stood up, smoothing her trousers and wiping the black streaks off her face with her index fingers. “I’m sorry to have bothered you, Inspector. I’ll leave you to your files. I’ll send Bert or Cec to retrieve the hamper tomorrow; you look like you need the food.” She started towards the door, head held high.

“Phryne, wait…” 

The pleading in his voice took her off guard, and she spun to face him, the anger in her eyes calming a bit when she saw the fear in his face. Phryne sighed and looked down at her hands. “So what now, Jack? Apparently we are too wise to woo peaceably.”

Jack inhaled deeply, then took three slow steps forward. Stopping about six inches in front of her, he reached up and smoothed her hair, then used his thumbs to gently wipe the tears from her face. Cupping her cheek with his palm, he caressed her lips with his thumb, pupils dilating as her breath caught and cheeks blushed. His eyes not leaving hers, he slowly leaned in until their lips met in a chaste kiss.

It lasted only a few seconds, but the sensation of his lips against hers had Phryne’s every nerve on fire. Just as she leaned in to deepen the kiss, Jack infuriatingly broke away. He smirked as a saw the pout spread across her face. “I thought you were going to leave me with my files,” he said with a gentle smile.

She silenced him with a finger to his lips. “Jack Robinson, if you don’t finish what you started right now, I’ll...”

His lips stopped her before she could finish the threat. This time, Phryne did not give him the chance to pull away. Wrapping her arms around his neck, she leaned back against the door, pulling him in to pin her with his weight. The hand at her cheek reached back to pillow her head against the wooden door, while the other splayed wide against her back, fingertips just barely peeking under her shirt. He ran his tongue along her lips, almost stopping in disbelief when he felt her moan and quiver beneath him. She responded in kind, her tongue seeking his until they were intertwined, exploring each other’s mouths hungrily. Phryne’s hands raked through Jack’s hair, gripping him tighter as the kiss grew more heated and frantic. The night’s tension, the anticipation, fear, and heartbreak all broke into a desperate, cathartic kiss. After a few minutes, Jack broke away for air and they stood panting, leaning against each other with neither willing to let go. Jack turned his head and kissed his way down her neck while caressing his hand up and down her side, reveling at how such delicate touches could make her whimper and tremble. He was so lost in her that he almost missed the harsh ring of the telephone. 

“Shhh, you didn’t hear anything,” Phryne whispered against Jack’s lips as he tried to pull away again. Jack chuckled, and pressed a kiss to her cheek.

“Unfortunately, we both know that’s not true, Miss Fisher.”

She tilted her head to the side, letting him kiss the sensitive skin under her jaw, while whispering in his ear. “In that case, it’s probably just Aunt Prudence, trying to thwart us once again.”

Jack kissed his way along her jaw line, gently sucking on her earlobe and releasing it with a nip. He smiled as he felt her tremble under his touch, making a mental note of the location for use later. “Mmmm. She can certainly try. But I can be quite persistent if need be.” Jack untangled himself from Phryne’s arms and walked over to the phone, shooting her an apologetic look as he went.

Phryne glared. “I’ve noticed, Inspector.”

Jack lifted the receiver to his ear and picked up the pencil on the table next to the phone. “Robinson…are you sure? No, not a problem at all, I’ll be right over. What’s the address again?” He scribbled some numbers on his note pad and hung up the phone.

“Well, it looks as if our friend has struck again. Care to join me? Provided you behave yourself, of course?”

She walked over and smoothed his lapels, giving the best pout she could manage. “I always behave myself,” she said in a sing song way that suggested she had no intention of doing so. “But if we are to be diverted, at least it is for a crime scene.”

Jack gathered her in his arms and kissed her nose affectionately, resting his forehead against hers. “That, Miss Fisher, is entirely the wrong lesson here.”

“Hopefully you will be able to punish me later. But regardless, I’m driving.” Phryne shot him a wicked glance and walked out, leaving him no choice but to grab a shirt and vest and follow her out the door, cursing the effect she had on his body.

“Might as well get used to it,” he muttered under his breath, not sure if he meant her driving or his aching need for her.


	10. The Breakthrough

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is a relatively short chapter, but i have a few long ones coming up to make up for it!

Other than the beat cops who had discovered the bodies, Jack and Phryne were the first to arrive. Except for the location – this time near the red light district- everything about the crime scene echoed the pictures Phryne had studied on Jack’s living room table. The bodies had been stripped down to their underwear, skin covered in so many bruises and gashes it was impossible to tell which would had been the cause of death. Fingernails which had been impeccably manicured in life were ragged and torn, blue shards of pain lodged between nail and skin. Hair was beautifully coiffed, and the woman’s makeup was stylish and expertly applied. Had the smell of blood and sewage not overwhelmed the scene, Phryne was sure she would have smelled French perfume.

When Phryne retched and looked away, overwhelmed by the scene, Jack instinctively wrapped his arms around her to comfort and steady her. Both froze, unsure how to handle the public affection, especially with so much unspoken between them. Fortunately, the arrival of Mac’s car gave them the distraction they needed.

Stepping out of her car, Mac’s eyes immediately shot to Jack’s outstretched arms with a smirk. “Oh thank god. Dot and I were starting to worry we would need to lock you two in a room and not open the door until one of you was either dead or pregnant!” Phryne stifled a snort of laughter while Jack turned bright red and dropped his hands to his sides. 

“Dot said that, did she Mac?”

“Well not in as many words, but the thought was there.” Mac turned her attention to the bodies. “I see our killer remains as subtle as ever.”

The woman lay on her back, arms and legs spread eagle against the pavement. The man lay on his stomach on top of her, legs between hers and face at her breast. Mac opened her tool bag and began examining the body, jotting down notes as she went.

“Based on body temperature, they can’t have been here more than an hour or so. Leaving them in such a, ahem, well-traveled area was probably a mistake. We may be able to get a little more from these two. I’ll have to take them back to the morgue, but I’d say same cause of death as the others.

Jack prowled around the scene, looking for anything that might suggest where the assailant came from or went after posing the bodies. Phryne leaned in to get a closer look at the victims.

“Mac, do you notice something off about her lipstick?”

“No?”

“It looks smeared off on the bottom lip, and some of the color is different. Seems odd given how perfect everything else is, doesn’t it? Can you open her mouth?” Mac took out a pair of tweezers and carefully pulled the lips back. “See? There’s lipstick on her teeth, too.”

“That could have been from the struggle… although, wait… that’s not just lipstick, that looks like blood. I just might be able to get some skin, too.”

“Wait, there’s something else in here.” Mac slowly opened the girl’s mouth even farther and lifted up her tongue. Reaching in with the tweezers, she pulled out a slightly waterlogged piece of cardboard.

Phryne turned to Jack and beckoned him over. “Is that… that looks like a coaster from a club!”

Mac laid out a handkerchief and placed the cardboard in the middle, unfolding it as she went. In the corner in blurred green in they could just barely make out The Starlight Club.

“Based on the girl’s teeth, you’re looking for someone with a pretty sizeable gash, probably on their arm or neck. They are likely going to need medical treatment, too. Human bites are nasty business. I’ll make sure the hospital knows to be on the lookout. Who knows, we might get lucky.

“Thanks, Mac.” Phryne looked at the victim and shook her head sadly. “Good girl. You fought back, for all the good it did you. But at least when that didn’t work, you left us a clue.” Phryne turned to Jack. “Fancy a night out on the town?”

Jack gave her a look. “Miss Fisher, this is a murder investigation, not a date. We are going to the club, but in an official capacity to question the employees.”

“Jack, you ruin all my fun. Just when I was about to ring Dot and ask her to dust off Lulu’s fans.” She leaned in conspiratorially and whispered in his ear. “I still have them, you know, if you’d like to see me in them again.”

Jack cleared his throat and removed her hand from his chest. “Not. Appropriate. Miss Fisher,” he growled, pursing his lips to still the smile that was trying to break through.

“Ahem, if you two are done, I’ll just be heading back to the morgue now.”

“Yes, of course. Thank you, Dr. MacMillan”.

I hope I don’t come to regret this, Mac thought as she got back in her car.


	11. The Starlight Club

The club wasn’t hard to find; after asking a few pedestrians on the street, Jack was able to get a decent set of directions. It was an awkward distance from the crime scene, close enough to walk but too far to drag captives or bodies. Driving was also unlikely; the club was too far down an alley for easy street parking, and it wasn’t the kind of club that had valet. But the area was relatively clean, without the odors and seedy characters common at Melbourne’s least reputable establishments. It was just the sort of place that a couple accustomed to the nicer things in life would go to be ignored and overlooked.

Jack flashed his badge at the bouncer, who begrudgingly let them in with the warning that he didn’t want any trouble. Phryne gave him the most innocent look she could muster. “Trouble, sir? What kind of trouble can an Inspector and a Lady Detective get into while looking for a crime scene?”

“Wait, crime scene??” the bouncer called back, but Phryne had already disappeared inside.

The club was smoky and dimly lit so that identifying faces more than a few feet away was nearly impossible. Loud jazz music played from a stage in the corner of a relatively packed dance floor. An occasional working girl would walk through the crowd, casting enticing glances at the single men scattered throughout the club. Thank goodness I’m not in the vice unit, Jack thought, glancing from between the suggestive dancing and the couples disappearing out the back door.

Jack turned back to look for Phryne, finding her a few feet behind him swaying to the music. Her eyes were closed and lips turned up into a soft smile as she lost herself in the music. The darkness exaggerated the contrast between her pale skin and dark hair and lips, and she looked almost otherworldly. For the second time that day, her beauty left him breathless.

As he reached out to get her attention, a man intercepted her, wrapping an arm around her waist and startling her out of her reverie. A wave of anger swept over Jack, only to dissipate as Phryne deftly twirled away from the interloper’s arms and took Jack’s hand. She turned back to the poor man and apologized, smiling sweetly and explaining that she had already promised Jack this dance. He pitied the man; after all Jack knew better than anyone did how it felt to see Phryne in someone else’s arms. But now he was the other man, and no amount of pity would tempt him to let her go. 

“That was quite an impressive move back there. I take it you’ve had practice turning down the men you’ve bewitched?”

Phryne gave him a measuring look, looking for hints of anger or jealousy that might threaten the shaky understanding they’d established. She relaxed when she saw the humor in his face. “What can I say? Apparently I’m irresistible.” She slinked up to him and put her hand on his chest. “At least you were here to save me.”

Jack smiled. “You rescued yourself, Miss Fisher, but I’ll gladly take the credit if you want to give it to me. Now if you’ll recall, we are here on a case.”

They made their way across the dance floor, weaving in and out of the crowds of oblivious couples. Jack signaled to the bartender, flashing his credentials once he approached. Jack described the victims, asking if he recalled seeing anyone meeting their description at the club in the past few hours.

“I’ve been here all night, but they don’t sound familiar.” He gestured to the dance floor. “But given how dark it is in here, that doesn’t necessarily mean anything. Why are you asking, anyway? What have they gone and done?”

“They got themselves murdered, found about a mile from here.” Jack picked up a coaster from the bar. “The lady had of these in her mouth.”

The bartender paled. “But we’re in a safe neighborhood! People come here to escape. If this gets out, it will be terrible for business!”

Phryne spoke up next. “Actually, we suspect the damage was done before they left the club. Do you have any rooms here that patrons would go for a little extra privacy? Someplace a little more intimate?”

The bartender fidgeted uncomfortably, finding some glasses suddenly in need of washing. “I don’t know what kind of place you think this is, miss, but we run a clean, reputable business.”

“I assure you, we have no interest in bringing any vice or indecency charges,” Jack promised. “We just want to solve a murder – a double murder actually – that took place here in your club. This is in your interest as much as ours. If it helps, we are looking for a room that’s been painted blue.”

The bartender sighed, and gestured to a curtained off hallway to the right of the bar. “Second door on the left. Please try to be subtle though, people come here expecting some privacy. I’ll be ruined if you scare everyone off.” He eyed them cautiously for a few more seconds before turning to a customer signaling for a drink at the other end of the bar.

Jack peered through the curtain, checking that the other side was empty, then led Phryne into a dark hallway. The left side was lined with thick oak doors, each fitted with large brass knobs. Phryne gave Jack a confused look. “This is a little odd for a nightclub, don’t you think?”

Jack shrugged. “Not common, but not unheard of. This was probably some kind of inn in a previous life, and not all the rooms were fully converted. The strong doors come in handy for storing expensive goods or lockboxes.”

“Or to rent by the hour, I suppose.”

“That too.”

Jack signaled for Phryne to stay behind him, then tried the door to find it locked tight. He knocked several times, leaning his ear against the door to listen for movement inside. “Sounds empty. Although I guess I shouldn’t be surprised that it’s locked if it truly is our crime scene.”

Phryne grinned proudly. “That’s why you brought me along!” She fished a pin out of her hair and fit it easily into the lock. Leaning over to listen for the tumblers, she had the door open in a matter of seconds.

“May I ask where you were planning on going tonight that you would need lockpicks, Miss Fisher?” 

Phryne smiled innocently, tucking the pin back into her hair. “Jack, you know by now that a lady never tells.”

“You weren’t by chance have been planning to break into my house, were you? I’d hate to have to arrest you again.” 

She pouted until she saw his telltale smirk breaking through his scowl. “Jack, you wouldn’t do that to little old me, would you? Although if you must, no need to bother with the handcuffs. I have my own.” Jack shot her a warning glance and walked carefully into the room with Phryne just behind.

The room was small, barely large enough for a well-used sofa and a set of table and chairs in the corner. The blue of the walls was a perfect match to the paint chips under the victims’ nails.

“Jack, careful!”

Jack turned to see Phryne, eyes wide, pointing to the floor near his feet. A few inches from where he stood were several large pools of what looked like blood, with splatter radiating out several feet behind it. Stepping back towards Phryne, Jack raised his eyebrows. “Well, looks like we found our crime scene.”

Phryne turned back to the hall. “Well, this is odd”

Turning around, Jack could see the doorknob had been removed, the hole where it had been crudely spackled over and painted. The surrounding door jamb was covered in scratches where the unfortunate victims had tried to reach the lock mechanism on the other side. There were also occasional scratch marks along the walls, near light sconces and air vents as the prisoners grew increasingly desperate.

Jack knelt, looking for any other clues they might have missed, while Phryne took stock of the room. Suddenly, out of the corner of his eye, Jack saw a figure appear in the doorway. It was too far to get facial features, but was wearing the hat an apron of kitchen staff, with a large bloodied rag tied around his forearm. In a split second, he dropped his supplies and ran, tearing down the hall the opposite direction from where they came. 

Shouting to Phryne to stay where she was, Jack leapt up in chase, following the him down a series of hallways to the alley behind the club. But as fast as Jack was, he was unfamiliar with the area and was quickly lost in the maze of alleys and backstreets. Dejected, Jack traced his way back to the club where a worried Phryne was waiting.

“Jack! Thank goodness you are ok. That man is dangerous! You didn’t have backup!”

Jack scowled, sitting down on the couch. “I’m fine. He got away though. We lost our lead.” Phryne sat next to him and put a calming hand on his leg.

“We’ll catch him. We learned more tonight than in months.” She pointed to the items the man had dropped in his escape. There was a bucket with soapy water, a small can of paint, and the missing doorknob. “See, at least we were able to stop him before he hid all evidence of the crime. And given the way he was dressed, he likely worked here.”

Jack nodded. “I suppose. Well, let’s go talk to the bartender again. It’s going to be a late night.”

Phryne smirked at Jack, walking her fingers slowly up his leg. “It was going to be a late night regardless. This way is just far less fun than I had originally planned.”

Jack blushed, catching her hand before she could do anything inappropriate. He brought it up to cup his cheek and gently kissed her palm. He stood, pulling her up with him.

“Open affection at a crime scene? I’m impressed, Inspector.”

“Don’t think you have me figured out just yet, Miss Fisher. Besides, it was either that, or arresting both of us for public indecency.” Jack released her hand and drew his notebook. “Let’s go see just how well this bartender knows his employees.”

They learned that the man in question had shown up about a month ago desperate for work, with a sob story about how his wife had just left him. They put him to work doing odd jobs, doing minor repairs, painting, and even cleaning and cooking when they were short staffed. He was a little odd, but quite reliable and a hard worker.

“What do you mean, odd?” Phryne asked.

“He was always a bit angry, easy to set off. He especially didn’t like it if he thought women were running around behind their men’s backs. We all just figured it had something to do with his old lady.”

Jack took out his notebook. “Do you have a name and an address?”

The bartender shook his head. “Address, no. But his name was Ed. Edmond. Last name was foreign sounding… like Dante…”

Jack shook his head in disbelief. “Dantes? Edmond Dantes?”

“Yeah! Wait, how did you know?”

“It sounds like he’s been working for you under an assumed name.”

“Assumed name? Why on earth would he do that?”

Jack looked at Phryne to see if she was following his line of thought. She didn’t disappoint. “To make a point. Tell me, have you ever read The Count of Monte Cristo?”

“Oh, no, I don’t really read much.”

“It’s a story of love and revenge. But mostly revenge.” She turned to Jack. “Now we just need to find our Ferdinand Mondego.”

\---

By the time they had gotten back to the station and completed their notes and statements, it was approaching dawn. Jack leaned on his elbow, chin in hand, reading the case file again and again for anything he might have missed. Phryne sat in the chair across the desk, watching Jack and trying to stay awake.

When she noticed Jack starting to nod off, Phryne stood and gave him her hand. “Bedtime, Inspector. I don’t suppose I could convince you to come stay with me tonight? I promise I’ll let you sleep.”

“No, I should go home. I need to get as much sleep as I can get. Besides, the boys will notice if they see me in the same suit two days in a row.” He knew the excuse was lame, but didn’t trust himself to get the sleep he needed in Phryne’s company. And as much as he craved her company, he needed time to process what had happened without her intoxicating presence.

“It’s the weekend. You will probably be the only one in the office to see! But if you insist, at least let me drive you home.” 

Ten minutes later, Phryne pulled up to Jack’s house and turned off the car. “Want me to come in with you?” 

Jack smiled and shook his head. “I think we both know that’s a bad idea.”

“A girl can still try.”

Jack’s playful response startled even himself. “You never know, one of these days she just might get lucky.” He was rewarded by a grin that made his heart skip. He shifted awkwardly. “We need to talk about this, you know. About us.”

Phryne smiled sympathetically and laid her hand on his knee. “I know. But not tonight. We both need a good night’s sleep.” They both sat in the car awkwardly for a moment, unsure what to do, but neither wanting to leave. Eventually Phryne took pity on him. “This is usually the part where the gentleman kisses the lady goodnight.”

“Um, ahh, yes, I believe you are right, Miss Fisher,” he stammered. “You’ll have to forgive me; I’m a bit out of practice.” He leaned in and kissed her softly, savoring the taste of whisky and lipstick on his tongue. This was only their third kiss (fourth, if you count Café Replique, which he didn’t want to), but he was amazed at how badly he needed the feeling of her lips against his. Without a thought, he wrapped his arms around her tightly, brushing his tongue against her lips and into welcoming mouth. He could feel Phryne melting in his hands, sighing with pleasure against him.

He didn’t know how long they sat there, kissing in her car like young lovers. It wasn’t until his hand brushed against the cold metal of the hooks on her brassiere (oh god, how had his hand made its way under her blouse?) that he came to, breaking the kiss suddenly. He leaned back, scanning her face to see he had overstepped. Her lipstick was gone and her hair disheveled, but the soft smile she wore lit up her face. She had apparently not minded.

She tilted her head down, looking up at him through her lashes. “You’re a cruel man, Jack Robinson, kissing me like that, then leaving me to my own devices.”

Jack blushed. He had never thought of himself as a particularly adept lover; after all, he had married Rosie at a young enough age that they were all each other had known. If it hadn’t been for the dreamy look in her eyes, Jack would have assumed she was just humoring him.

“Sorry to disappoint.”

“Jack, if that kiss was anything to go by you won’t be a disappointment at all.” She gave him a heated look. “Now get out of my car before you really do need to arrest me for indecency.” 

“Goodnight, Miss Fisher.” Jack reached up and caressed her cheek, before stepping out of the car and into his empty home.


	12. City South

Phryne woke around 11, impressively early in her book given the late night. She ran downstairs to ask Mr. Butler to throw together a lunch basket for the station. Dot had laid out an outfit for her the night before, a cobalt blue skirt and pale yellow blouse that was perfect combination of alluring and demure. Sitting on top of the clothes were a blue ribbon fascinator and Jack’s swallow pin. Phryne turned the pin over in her hands, smiling at Dot’s scheming. She was more subtle than Mac, to be sure, but just as determined. Phryne dressed quickly, and was on her way to City South by noon.

When she arrived at the station, she was surprised to see Jack’s door closed, the sound of a woman’s voice barely audible from within. Hugh, who was manning the desk, greeted her especially warmly when he saw the large basket of food in her hands.

“Good morning, erm, afternoon, Miss Fisher. The Inspector is expecting you; he said to send you in when you arrived.”

Phryne thanked the constable, handing him some biscuits from her stash. She was pleased that Jack was being so welcoming on this investigation, even if she was a little disappointed that she wouldn’t need to find some clever way to insinuate herself into the investigation. She knocked quietly on the door, then peeked in hesitantly.

A young woman sat in the chair across Jack’s desk. She wasn’t beautiful per se, but had an intelligence in her face that was alluring. She was clearly wealthy; her jewelry was elegant and tasteful, and her hair stylish without being flashy. She was also visibly upset, eyes red and nervous, and her whole body tense. She was leaning against the desk, propped up on her elbows with her arms stretched out in front of her. Jack was leaning towards her, his hands covering hers reassuringly.

Phryne knew she shouldn’t be bothered, especially since Jack made no effort to pull away when she walked into the room. He’s just doing his job, she reminded herself. But even still, she couldn’t help the sour feeling in her stomach.

Jack smiled warmly when he saw her come in. “Miss Fisher, glad you could join us. Mrs. Allen stopped by this morning when her husband failed to come home after working late last night. Mrs. Allen, would you mind sharing the description of your husband with my colleague here?”

Phryne’s expression softened and she sat in the chair next to the visitor. As the woman described her missing husband, Jack and Phryne exchanged worried glances across the desk. The description was too similar to last night’s victim to be a coincidence.

Phryne gave the woman the most sympathetic look she could. “Mrs. Allen, sorry if this question seems indelicate, but is there a chance your husband was having liaisons outside his marriage?”

She sighed dejectedly and nodded. “He would say he was working late, but as a barrister, his cases were often covered in the newspapers, so I had an idea of when his work schedule was busy and free. There were days when he said he had to work that didn’t make sense. He was never obvious enough that I had proof; at least he respected me that much. But I knew it was happening. There are things you can’t hide or fake.” She looked at Jack. “You know the smile on your face when Miss Fisher came in? He used to look at me that way. He hasn’t in a while.”

Jack blushed, but continued the interview. “Please don’t take this the wrong way, but you seem strangely calm about your suspicions. Most women I know would be far angrier than you.”

“No, I understand, you are simply doing your job. I’d ask the same thing.” She shrugged sadly. “I was angry at first, but it dulls over time. And all things considered, I’m lucky. He treats me well, is attentive in his own way, and provides enough that I can have anything I want. I’ve got my friends and philanthropy to keep me entertained. There are those who have it far worse.”

Phryne’s heart broke at this strong woman, doing her best to hold her life together knowing that her husband was unfaithful. She felt terrible pressing the issue, but knew they had no choice. “Do you have an idea of who he might have been seeing?”

Mrs. Allen looked down at her hands. In a move that was clearly well practiced, she wiped tears from her eyes in a way that perfectly preserved her makeup. “Ah yes. I believe his current flame was his stenographer. Her name was Grace. Grace Ramsay.”

“Current? Were there many others?”

“Yes, at least I think so. It started about 6 months ago. It’s actually quite a sad story. His first stenographer took his own life around then. I don’t remember her name, but that’s when everything seemed to change. I suspected they were having an affair, but never knew for sure.”

Jack quickly wrote her response in his notebook, then gave her a sad glance. “Mrs. Allen, again I’m so sorry to ask, but would you mind coming with me? We’ve unfortunately found someone matching that description, and would very much like if could confirm if it is the same person.” Jack reached out, providing an arm to steady the poor woman as she stood, and supporting her weight, led her to the morgue.

Mac had been working in the morgue, but when she saw them arrive, she nodded to Jack and quickly excused herself, citing obligations elsewhere. Jack led Mrs. Allen to one of the gurneys and pulled the sheet back revealing the face of the female victim. Fortunately the bruises were isolated below the neckline, so the worst of the damage could remain hidden. Mrs. Allen gasped, then began to sob, eventually confirming in stilted words that the victim was indeed Grace Ramsay. When Phryne uncovered the face on the second gurney, Mrs. Allen collapsed in tears.

Jack caught her before she fell, and she collapsed against him, bawling into his shoulder. Phryne stood in the corner and watched silently as Jack supported the poor widow, talking to her in calm and quiet tones until her sobs quieted to sniffles. He led her back up to his office, wrapping her in a blanket and pouring her some tea, sneaking a touch of bourbon into the drink to relax her. Jack stayed with her, caring for her until she was calm enough to stand on her own.

When she stood to leave, Jack pressed a card into her hands, imploring her to call if he could be of any assistance. Mrs. Allen smiled wanly, thanked him for his time, asking only to be kept informed if her husband’s murderer was found. With Jack’s promise that he would, she stood and took her leave.

Phryne was uncharacteristically quiet after she left, alternating between staring absentmindedly at the case file and staring at Jack. He felt her eyes on him after a few minutes, and gave her a questioning look.

“How did you do that?”

“Do what?”

“Calm her, earn her trust on what is probably the worst day of her life.”

Jack shrugged. “It’s my job. It is absolutely my least favorite part of it, but if I can’t earn the trust of the victims along the way, I lose out on information that may help me find out what happened. And we all want that.”

“It was amazing.”

Jack smiled shyly. “No more so than how you were able to earn Jane’s trust. I’ve just had a little more practice.” He rubbed his face tiredly. “Although no matter how much practice you have, it still takes a lot out of you.”

“As it should. I suspect the day that something like is no longer exhausting is that day you need to retire. That kind of pain should never be routine.”

They both sat for a while, absorbed in the case and their own thoughts until Hugh knocked on the doorframe and walked in with a folder. “Sir, the information you requested.”

Jack took the file and began leafing through the pages. “Thank you, Collins. That will be all.” Hugh nodded, and left the office.

Phryne rose from the chair and took her usual perch on top of Jack’s desk where she could more easily see the file’s contents. “What’s this?” she asked intrigued. 

“This morning I asked the boys to compile a list of clubs near each of the crime scenes that match the profile of the Starlight Club. Somewhat upscale and safe, but otherwise anonymous. This is the list of potential leads.”

Phryne glanced through the list. “I haven’t heard of any of these! And I thought I knew all the clubs in town.”

“That’s because you go out for fun and to be seen, not to hide in public.” Phryne couldn’t argue with his logic. Jack unfolded a large map of the area, spreading it flat on his desk, marking off each of the crime scenes with a red pen. He then plotted each of the clubs, creating a geographic profile of each of the potential crime scenes. Comparing each location against nearby streets and distance to where the bodies were discovered, he was able to narrow the list to a few for each crime scene. He wrote the address of each in his notebook.

He stopped for a moment, brow furrowed in thought, eyes staring out the open door to his office. After a few minutes, he came to a decision and stood, gathering his hat and coat. He then walked over to where Phryne sat and leaning in, gave her a peck on the cheek. When she turned her head in an attempt to catch his lips with hers, he pulled away quickly, giving her a warning glance. 

“I’m not going to hide this, Phryne. But we need to establish boundaries, and this is one.” Phryne gave him an exaggerated pout, which quickly gave way to a grin when she saw his eyes fixating on her lips. As calm as his voice was, he was having as difficult a time as she was remaining professional. She decided to push him, as much for the joy of making him blush as a test to see just where his boundaries lay. She raked her eyes up and down his body hungrily, pleased to see his face flush and Adam’s apple bob under her heated stare.

She arched an eyebrow wickedly. “Is it hard, Inspector?”

Jack almost gagged, his eyes widening in embarrassment as he glanced at the junior constables going about their business through his open door. He coughed and straightened his already impeccable tie. “Is what hard, Miss Fisher.”

“Having me back home from London after so long, lounging on your desk right in front of you, and you can’t touch me because of your boundaries?”

Jack stopped and cocked his head. As suggestive as Miss Fisher could be, she wasn’t usually this forward. He thrilled at the thought that she might be just as desperate for him as he was for her. He calmly walked around the desk and leaned in to her ear. “To the contrary, Miss Fisher,” he said in a whispered growl. “I’ve had years of practice. It’s just given me ample time to plan exactly what I’m going to do when I’m not so constrained.” He reached into her purse, plucked out her car keys and walked to the door. “Now let’s go. It’s my turn to drive.”

Shocked at being beaten at her own game, Phryne sat slack jawed for a moment before following him out to her car.


	13. Annie

The first club was a complete bust. They were months removed from the first murder, and if their perpetrator had been there, any evidence of his actions was long gone. Changeovers in the club’s management also meant that any records or memories of prior employees were nonexistent. Phryne was annoyed, wanting to delve deeper into the establishment, but Jack was unmoved. He reminded her that they still had several more clubs to investigate, but promised that if they didn’t have any leads by the end of the day, they would return tomorrow. Fortunately, they were far more successful at the second club.

When they arrived, the manager was standing by the stage helping set up for the band that evening. Upon seeing Jack, he shouted some instructions to his staff and walked over.

“What can I do you for, Officer?” Jack was visibly surprised at the man’s recognition. The manager chuckled and gestured to Jack’s attire. “Only two types of folks come visit me at this time of day dressed like that: cops and goons. And I don’t owe anyone any money.”

Jack smiled and shook the man’s hand. “Wise decision. Detective Inspector Jack Robinson, and this is Miss Phryne Fisher, private detective. We are looking into a murder that took place about six months ago that may be connected to your club.”

“Murder? Don’t know nuthin about that!”

“We know you wouldn’t have had anything to do with it, but we think the killer may have worked here a few months ago.” Jack shared the description from the bartender at the Starlight club. “Average height, skinny, with thinning brown hair. Probably in his mid-forties. He would have made the women who worked here quite uncomfortable.”

The man narrowed his eyes in thought. “You’re talking about Ed, aren’t you? Stout, older bloke with thinning hair and a temper problem? I had to fire him a few months back.”

“We suspect Ed isn’t his real name, but yes, sounds like it’s the same person. Why’d you fire him?”

“He was a good worker, on time and reliable, but he made folks uncomfortable. Stared a little too much, if you get my meaning. We took pity on him though, sounded like he and his lady just split up. Kept talking about back when he had his Annie.”

Phryne cocked her head. “Annie? You sure?”

“Yep, Same name as my little niece. But I came in one morning and caught him tryin’ to take the doorknob off my office door. He claimed it fell off and he was just trying to put it back on, but it didn’t sit right. That’s where I keep my important files, my deposits before I go to the bank, my better liquors. Ya know, personal stuff that he had no business with. But I went into the room, everything seemed off. Furniture had been moved around a little and it smelled like paint and bleach. Never found proof that he stole from me, but between that and his issues with the girls, I just couldn’t keep him. I let him go then and there, no letter of reference.”

“Do you mind letting us see the room?”

“Not so long as you mind my coming with you… can’t be too careful.”

“Not a problem at all.”

The manager led them down a hallway flanking the stage. Past the lavatories was a thick door with a new brass handle. The man pointed. “He broke the inside knob, so I had to replace the whole thing! They ain’t cheap, you know.” He fished out a key from his pocket and opened the room.

It was painted a dark red that was sickeningly familiar to Jack. In the corner sat a small desk, with a large chaise lounge set up along the wall. Finishing the décor was a small bookshelf and a heavy lead safe. Phryne stopped in the doorway, running her fingers along the painted frame. When she felt the shallow gouges, she turned to Jack.

“He did a good job painting them over, but you can still feel them right here.” She pointed to where the locking mechanism sat. Barely visible under several layers of paint were thin scratches matching those at the Starlight club.

Jack chewed his lip in thought, staring at the door. He then turned to the club manager. “Annie, right? Did you happen to get a last name?”

“Always just assumed it was the same as his. Dantes.”

“Thank you, you’ve been more helpful than you realize.” He rested his hand on the small of Phryne’s back, leading her out the door. “Miss Fisher and I are needed back at the station, but would you mind if we came back if other questions arise?” Phryne shot Jack a confused look, but kept quiet.

“As long as it’s during the day and doesn’t interfere with the clientele, fine by me. Ask for Sam.”

“Thank you, Sam. We will be in touch.”

When they were in the privacy of the Hispano, Phryne’s patience gave out. “OK, Jack. Out with it. Who’s Annie?”

“It’s got to be her real name, otherwise he would have said Mercedes, or at the very least Maria or Mary or something similar. Annie’s too different to be a pseudonym.”

“I know, but all we have is a first name, and a common one at that. Do you know how many Annies there are in Melbourne? We can’t visit every one!”

“At the moment I’m only interested in the one that turned up in my morgue six months ago. Everything point ed to suicide, but Mac didn’t like it; something about suspicious bruises and healed bones. Kept the file just in case she was right.”

Phryne smiled, warmed by the trust Jack had not only in her own abilities, but those of her best friend as well. “And THAT, Inspector Robinson, is why I…” She stopped, realizing what she almost said. “That is why you are such a good detective.”

Jack smiled back at Phryne and rested his hand on her knee. He was a good detective; he hadn’t missed her slip, but new enough to pretend otherwise.

\--

When they returned to the station, Jack opened a drawer from the cabinet in the corner and pulled out a large stack of files.

Phryne’s eyes widened. “So many!”

Jack nodded grimly. “And these are only the relatively recent ones. Those other drawers are full as well.”

“But I thought you had the best closure rate of all of City South!”

“I do.” 

Phryne’s face fell from shock to sadness as the meaning of response set in. She sighed and grabbed a handful from the top of the stack. “Here, let me help.”

They found it about halfway through the files. Jack returned the stack to the filing cabinet, and spread the contents of the remaining file on his desk.

“Annie Cuthbert,” Phryne read aloud. “Age 28, discovered deceased in her bed by her husband. Cause of death: overdose of laudanum.” Phryne turned through the pages, pulling out Mac’s autopsy report while Jack reviewed his case notes. “I can see why Mac was concerned. Old bruising on the face and forearms, and it looks like some fingers were broken reset by an amateur.” Phryne’s expression darkened, and her hand trembled almost imperceptibly. “Bastard.”

Watching her face, Jack almost wished he could exhume Rene Dubois just so he could kill the man again. He gently placed his hand on top of hers, caressing her knuckles with his thumb.

“I know. We’ll find him.” Jack glanced at the file again, stopping at the final paragraph in the notes. “Wait- this is odd.”

“Hmm?”

“Her husband was distraught- I remember that. But look at his name.”

Phryne’s jaw dropped when she saw where he was pointing. “Ferdinand? Really?” Jack nodded gravely. “Wait, so does that mean he is our killer? Or is he another victim?”

“I don’t know. But I think we need to pay him a visit.”

Phryne grabbed Jack’s arm, flipping his wrist over to read his watch. She groaned when she saw the time.

“That doesn’t look good”, Jack deadpanned. “Is there going to be another murder?”

“Yes, of my patience,” Phryne whined. “I told Aunt Prudence I would join her for tea this afternoon, and I can’t think of a way to really get out of it. Any suggestions?”

Jack’s lips turned up into his signature smirk. “Unfortunately, you are stuck with her. If it was anyone else, you would happily tell them to sod off, but even you know enough to treat Mrs. Prudence Stanley with the utmost respect.” Phryne stuck her tongue out at him, and he tsked at her playfully. “Now Miss Fisher, I believe we’ve already addressed this. No tempting me at work.

She smoothed his tie with her fingers, giving him a come hither stare. “Only if you agree to a nightcap tonight I can try tempting you in my parlor instead.”

Jack chuckled. “I suppose that can be arranged. See you around 7.” Phryne smiled, turned on her heels, and sauntered out the door. Jack watched her appreciatively until she was out of sight, then called Collins over to prepare for his visit to Mr. Cuthbert.


	14. Chapter 14

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I feel like Aunt Prudence is a bit of an underappreciated character. Sure, she is a bit histrionic and has the most frustrating timing, but she means well. So while she may not understand Phryne and Jack, she at least wants the best for them (even though she has no idea whatsoever of what that might be :) )
> 
> As I write more, these chapters don't have clear titles, so I'm giving up on the pretense. One more chapter of plot, but I promise I will let our heroes get in some... ahem... quality time soon.

“Phryne, there you are my dear! It was starting to get late and I was wondering if you would make it at all. Come in, come in, we were just sitting down for a bite to eat.”

Phryne kissed her aunt on the cheek and followed her into the house. “I’m sorry, Aunt Prudence. Jack and I were following up on a lead and I lost track of time.”

“Goodness, child, you don’t waste any time, do you. Nothing too serious, I hope?”

“Unfortunately, yes. At least six victims so far, maybe more.”

“And you are going out chasing these monsters? Now, really, my dear.” Phryne rolled her eyes inwardly as Prudence fanned herself in shock. “Don’t you think this business of yours is a little too dangerous, Phryne? Why don’t you leave the detecting to the actual detectives?”

“Aunt P, we’ve had this discussion before. I love what I do and I don’t intend on stopping any time soon.”

Prudence pursed her lips. “Well, it’s distressing, but I can’t say I’m surprised. I was hoping your time in London would get it out of your system.”

Phryne grinned shamelessly. “Sorry to disappoint!”

The conversation turned to more benign topics, covering Guy and Isabella’s recent antics (and SHE was the one Prudence worried about, Phryne thought sardonically), comings and goings on the hospital board, and changes to the social and marital status of the more prominent names in Melbourne. Phryne listened politely but impatiently, anxious to return to Jack and the murder investigation. Mrs. Stanley would periodically ask about London, searching for hints that her niece had any potential suitors, but was not surprised when Phryne deftly evaded her questions.

“Phryne my dear, I must say you seem a bit out of sorts or distracted today. Is everything quite alright?”

Phryne blinked in confusion. “Of course, Aunt P. Why do you ask?”

Prudence chuckled silently. You didn’t survive in society for as many decades as she had without a knack for reading people. Phryne would have made a decent poker player, but Prudence had known her niece well and could read her better than most. 

“The case, is it?” Phryne smiled noncommittally. “Speaking of the case, how is Inspector Robinson these days? You two didn’t seem quite as friendly at your homecoming party; hopefully you didn’t have some kind of quarrel.” Despite what her niece no doubt thought, Prudence felt quite a deep affection for the dour Detective Inspector. Unlike the bright young things Phryne entertained before, he was a calming presence in her life. Of course she would have preferred Phryne settle down with someone more socially equal, but titles are no match for affection and strength of character. 

The question took Phryne off guard. Either the speed of gossip had quickened during her time in London, or her tension with Jack had been obvious before she even realized it was there. “Oh, no, he is doing just fine. Of course we had some case details to work out, but we are working together beautifully. Everything is back to normal.” Phryne fidgeted a little, hoping her Aunt wouldn’t see through the lie. Well, not lie, Phryne thought. Mild misdirection.

Prudence narrowed her eyes at her niece, her face suddenly taking on a more serious expression. “And what exactly is normal, Phryne?”

Phryne opened her mouth to speak, but realized she didn’t really know what to say. Everything was too new, too unspoken for her to be able to answer that question to herself, let alone anyone else.

Prudence shook her head affectionately. “Oh Phryne, for as brilliant as you are, you can be a bit daft sometimes.” She paused, catching Phryne’s eye, hoping she caught the seriousness of what she was about to say. “The man loves you, you know. And it’s cruel to keep dancing around him like the way you do.

Phryne looked down at her hands. “I know.”

“He’s not like frivolous young things you’ve played with in the past. He’s a serious man who is likely as serious in every aspect of his life, which likely means he wants marriage. A family. Things you’ve been quite vocally against in the past.”

Phryne felt oddly under attack. “But he also wants me,” she shot back defensively.

Prudence felt a little relief at Phryne’s retort; at least it meant she wasn’t entirely blind to the extent of the Inspector’s feelings. “True, but at what cost?” Prudence could see Phryne getting angry, but continued to push. “Darling, please don’t misunderstand, this is nothing against you or the Inspector. But anything worth keeping is hard and requires sacrifices you may not be willing to make. Of course he wants you, but it isn’t fair to ask him to change for you unless you are willing to do the same for him.”

Phryne glared at her aunt, but couldn’t think of an appropriate response. They sat in awkward silence for a few moments, until Mrs. Stanley decided to lighten the mood.

“Oh, Phryne, I’d been meaning to throw a dinner party for some of the bigger donors to the hospital, and your return gives me the perfect excuse! I’ve already spoken to Mr. Butler and Mrs. Collins, and they’ve offered to assist with the logistics. I’ll need your help during the day to prepare, of course, but it has been set for Friday evening.”

Phryne decided she would need to have a word with her traitorous staff when she got home. “Aunt Prudence, I just got back and am in the middle of a murder investigation. I can’t possibly…”

“Nonsense,” Prudence interrupted. “It’s already set. The Inspector will be invited of course, as will a large number of eligible bachelors should you prefer. Dot has already started picking out your clothes and confirmed you didn’t have anything on the calendar anyway, so don’t try to tell me you are already busy.”

Phryne pursed her lips at her Aunt. “Fine. But I’m doing the seating arrangements.”

Prudence smiled innocently. “Of course, dear, that can be arranged.”

\---

As he drove to Ferdinand Cuthbert’s house, Jack couldn’t help be intimidated. The long driveway snaked around perfectly manicured gardens, culminating in an oval in front of a stone and ivy covered façade. Jack, acquainted with such wealth from his time with Rosie, was able to suppress his desire to stare, but Hugh had no such practice. He sat in awe, jaw dropped at the size and grandeur of the place.

Hugh turned to Jack, eyes wide. “It must be murder, sir! How could someone who lives here ever want to take their own life?”

Jack gave Hugh a stern look. “Tragedy doesn’t differentiate between rich and poor, Collins. The wealthy are just like everyone else: happy, sad, innocent, or guilty. We mustn’t come to any conclusions outside the evidence.”

Hugh wilted under Jack’s stare, reddening in embarrassment. “Uh, yes sir. Sorry sir, won’t happen again.”

Convinced his constable was sufficiently chastised, Jack stepped out of the car. Hugh followed on his heels, remaining a step behind as Jack knocked on the large mahogany door. A few seconds later a portly butler in a perfectly tailored suit answered the door.

“I’m sorry, sir, but the master is not entertaining any visitors at the moment.”

Jack reached into his coat pocket and flashed his credentials. “I’m sorry to intrude, but unfortunately this is not a social call. I had spoken with Mr. Cuthbert several months ago regarding Annie’s death, and there may have been some new developments. It is important that I speak with him.”

The butler ushered them into the foyer, signaled for them to wait, then disappeared between a set of doors to the right. He reemerged a few minutes later, asking them to follow him. They stepped through the doors into a large, dimly lit parlor. The furniture was high end, but was covered in a light layer of dust suggesting it had not recently been used. The curtains were drawn, and dust motes floated in the air where sunbeams crept through. A man sat sipping a brandy at a table in the far corner of the room. Despite the late hour, he was still in his dressing gown, and barely noticed their entry. Behind Jack, Hugh sniffled a few times, then tried unsuccessfully to stifle a sneeze. The sudden sound got the man’s attention and he eyed the intruders warily. After a moment, he recognized Jack and signaled for them to join him.

“Ah, Inspector…. Inspector…”

“Robinson,” Jack prompted.

“Yes, of course. Ferdinand. Good to see you. I take it you have some news about Annie?”

“Potentially, yes, some new crime scenes have come to light. Although I apologize; we will need to ask some uncomfortable questions in order to determine if they are related.”

Ferdinand pointed sadly at his attire. “Do your worst, Inspector. As you can see, I have very little to lose.”

Jack nodded. “I know you don’t believe Annie’s death was a suicide-”

Ferdinand’s face reddened in anger, thick veins suddenly swelling out from the side of his neck. “It wasn’t!”

“Yes, of course.” The man’s anger dissipated as quickly as it had appeared and he returned his attentions again to his brandy. “But I need to know if there was anyone else who might have wanted to cause her harm. Perhaps someone she was, um, acquainted with outside of her marriage vows?”

Ferdinand stared intently at Jack, making sure he had correctly interpreted the policeman’s innuendo. Confirming he had, he deflated at the question. “Yes, there were some issues a while back, but all that ended months ago. I can’t imagine it was related. Why, have you heard something?”

Jack adopted the most sympathetic expression he could. “Just tell me what happened.” 

Ferdinand started at his drink for several minutes, then nodded slowly.

“As you may know, I own a successful shipping business, so I visit the docks regularly to ensure shipments are on time and everything is running smoothly. Annie was young and curious and smart, and would join me when she could. She had a good head for business, and noticed things I didn’t. We made a good team, Annie and I. It wasn’t long before she was joining me almost every day, taking more time with her makeup and wearing her finest clothes. At first I was flattered, seeing the jealous looks from the dockhands, knowing she was with me. But eventually I started to notice furtive glances between her and one of the wharfies working on the ship.”

“Do you know this man’s name?”

“Only his first name- Harry.” 

Jack nodded. “Please, continue.”

“Not long after, she started going out more, meeting up with friends I’d never heard of or suddenly volunteering for charities she hadn’t been interested in before. I’m not a naïve man, Inspector Robinson, but she was young and beautiful, and as you can see, I’m neither. I didn’t want to confront her directly about it; deep down I’m a coward and if she admitted it, it would somehow become real. But once she started coming home with bruises, I couldn’t ignore it anymore. One night was particularly bad…”

He paused to take a sip of his drink, his hand shaking noticeably. Putting the glass down, he swallowed and took a deep breath.

“She tried to hide it, but she was limping badly and her face was swollen and bloodied. Her arm hung limp at her side, fingers wrapped in a cloth. When she stumbled in the door, I couldn’t even be mad; I could just hold her and cry and tell her everything would be alright. That night she told me what was happening, admitting everything. Harry was young, charming, and had time for her when I did not. She said on his good days she felt like the luckiest person in the world. But he was also jealous and controlling, and eventually violent. She couldn’t handle it anymore. That night she had gone to him to break it off, and he had flown into a rage.”

He curled his hands into fists, jaw set first in anger, then fading to sorrow. “I wasn’t there for her… she had to limp all the way home…” Ferdinand lifted his head, staring into space to gain composure.

“Afterwards, I spent more time at home, and tried to be more attentive. She tried to be more understanding and patient. It was hard, but we worked through it and in time began to trust each other again. Harry, on the other hand, couldn’t adjust. A few days later, the threatening letters and phone calls began. One day I came home to find all the windows on the ground floor smashed. The scariest was when we came home from the theater one night to find a note sitting on the pillow. He… had been there, following us. He complimented her dress…”

Hugh couldn’t mask the horror on his face, but Jack’s expression was impassive. “Did you report any of this to the police?”

“Of course I did,” Ferdinand spat angrily. “They came and investigated, but because nothing had been stolen or no one had been harmed, they were of little use. But then, suddenly everything stopped. Life was back to normal. Happy. Our last month together was like our honeymoon. And then… well, you know what happened next.”

“I know you said everything stopped in that last month, but has there been anything suspicious lately? Letter, calls, anything of the sort?”

Ferdinand scratched his head. “No, not really, other than the gift from Annie that arrived a few weeks ago.”

“Gift?”

He got up, padding across the room to a small table covered in books and knick knacks and lovingly lifted the top book from the pile. “This arrived in the mail a few weeks ago. Annie knew I loved to read, and would sometimes surprise me with books and presents when I was away on business. She must have ordered it before she died.”

“May I?” 

Ferdinand hesitated, scared to let go of his last memory of his wife. Eventually he handed the book to Jack, who accepted it carefully. He gently opened the cover, nearly dropping the book in shock when he realized what it was.

In his hand sat a well-worn copy of The Count of Monte Cristo. Inscribed in the title page, in neat handwriting was a note that read “To my dear Ferdinand- I shall see you soon.”

“Is this Annie’s hand?”

“No, but I had just assumed she had asked the bookseller to make the note on her behalf.”

Jack shook his head. It couldn’t possibly be a coincidence. “When… when did you say you received this?” Jack whispered.

“Three, maybe four weeks ago?”

Behind him, Jack heard Hugh gasp. “Sir- the murder at the Docks…” Jack nodded quickly.

“I’m sorry, Mr. Cuthbert, but this book was not from your wife.”

He scoffed. “Of course it was! Who else could it have been from?”

Jack stared at him gravely. “Her murderer.”

Ferdinand Cuthbert dropped his drink, tumbler shattering and brandy spilling across the table. 

“Mr. Cuthbert, I believe it might be best if you would get dressed and come with me. Your life may be in danger.”


	15. Chapter 15

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Eep! My first attempt at writing smut. Hopefully it doesn't seem awkward! Not a whole lot of plot in this chapter, but some cute Phrack interaction and some much needed alone time. Plot will return with a bang next chapter!

It was closer to 9:30 by the time Jack appeared on Phryne’s doorstep looking exhausted and contrite. She had initially planned on teasing him for his late arrival, but thought better of it when she saw the worry in his eyes. Instead she ushered him into the parlor and pressed a drink into his hands, leading him to the couch.

Jack took a sip to steel his nerves. “I… I’m so sorry, Miss Fisher. I know this is a terrible way to start out.”

“Hush.” She kissed his forehead and sat down next to him, wrapping her legs beneath her. “Just tell me what happened.”

He described his visit to Ferdinand Cuthbert, detailing Annie’s infidelity, their reconciliation, and the lover’s inability to cope. Once Cuthbert understood the meaning behind the book, the man had broken down, blaming himself not only for his wife’s death, but for the other murders. It had taken over an hour of convincing to get him to agree to leave to a safe house, and another hour to pack and make the necessary arrangements. Jack had also stationed some plainclothes officers to guard the mansion and monitor the mail in case Edmond (now known to be this Henry character) attempted to contact Cuthbert again. Jack had been tempted to go back to the office to search for additional clues- at least find a last name or address- but by that time he was already over an hour late and was terrified he had already sabotaged their date. 

Phryne could see Jack scanning her face for any hint of anger or reproach, and did the best she could to wordlessly reassure him. It wasn’t hard to see that he connected the long hours from work obligations with both Annie’s infidelity and Rosie’s divorce, and it broke her heart that he was worried she would react the same way. Phryne just listened, refilled his drink when necessary, and promised to join him at the station tomorrow to analyze employment records.

“Miss Fisher, are you actually offering to assist with research and desk work?” Jack joked. “You usually strategically disappear until we have need for you out in the field.”

Phryne laughed. “Well it isn’t entirely altruistic, since I know as soon as we find a name – and we will – we will get to visit the docks to apprehend our man.”

Jack relayed a few more observations about the case, victims, and suspects to Phryne, who was listening intently. 

“It sounds like your afternoon was FAR more successful and enjoyable than mine. I’m afraid I have some news for you.” Jack took the bait, raising his eyebrow in curiosity.

“Would you like the good or the bad news first? Your choice.”

Jack smirked. “Bad. You can only go up from there.”

“Well, the bad news is that you will be spending all of Friday evening at Aunt Prudence’s house at a fundraising gala for the hospital.”

Jack shuddered in mock terror. “Oh, I will, will I? Miss Fisher, I certainly hope the good news more than accounts for the horror you will be subjecting me to.”

Phryne beamed. “I happen to have it on good authority that you will be seated next to the most glamorous and intriguing woman in the room!”

Jack’s smirk grew larger. “Really? But I thought Hilly McNaster disapproved of such gatherings. I guess I’d better bone up on the temperance movement if I’m to impress her with my wit.” Jack barely had enough time to put his drink down before a throw pillow flew past his head. “I’m assuming you meant I would be accompanying you, but won’t Aunt Prudence be parading you around to all the eligible bachelors like a prized cow?”

Phryne’s jaw dropped in mock offense and she was readying another pillow as Jack tried to walk his way back. “Orchid! I mean orchid!”

Phryne glared jokingly at him and set the pillow back down. “That’s better! But if you must know, I only agreed to attend if I was in charge of the seating arrangements. Although you’d better be nice to me. Mrs. Hoyle’s table still has seats, and I hear she has many wonderful stories about the accomplishments of her Siamese cats and her two very eligible daughters who are no older than sixty.”

“In that case, I promise to be on my utmost best behavior, even if it does mean defending you from English Barons and American film stars.”

Phryne suddenly grew quiet, remembering her conversation with her Aunt. She picked at a string peeking out from the side of the sofa, and stared at Jack with her mind spinning. She chafed at the thought that she needed defending from anyone, let alone someone who she would have happily bedded few scant months ago. She cared for Jack deeply, but also cherished her freedom and independence, and didn’t know how to reconcile the two.

Jack was confused by the sudden change in Phryne’s demeanor. Worried he said something wrong, Jack reached for her hand. She didn’t pull away, but didn’t respond either. “Phryne is everything ok? Did I say something that upset you?”

She shook her head and looked down at the drink in her hand. “What… what do you want, Jack?”

Unaware of the context behind the question, Jack tried to make light of it. “I could use another drink, if that’s what you’re asking.”

Her lips turned up into a slight smile, but she didn’t raise her eyes. “I meant from us. From me.”

Jack sighed, gripping her hand tighter. He’d been both dreading and anticipating this discussion; he just hadn’t expected it so soon.

“I want you. Us.”

“Even if that means never being married or having children?”

“Phryne, I won’t lie and say I don’t imagine us growing old together or having a family. But none of that is contingent on a wedding. I’ve been married, and there is nothing that vows can do that we can’t do for ourselves. And if I forced you to do something you didn’t want, well, what kind of marriage is that? Besides, we already have Jane.”

Phryne’s eyes swelled at Jack’s mention of her ward. He understood what few people did: that family of your choosing could be just as strong as family of blood and marriage. Phryne reached out and ran her fingers through his hair, resting her palm against his cheek. “Jack Robinson, for as much as you hide it, you are quite the modern man.” 

He closed his eyes and leaned into her hand, steeling himself for the conversation to come. “Well, not as much as you might hope, I’m afraid.” He opened his eyes and took both of her hands in his. “I’ve never thought of myself as a jealous man, but you’ve seen how I’ve reacted in the past when I think you’re with someone else. I don’t think that is going to change, Phryne. I don’t think I’d be able to handle it.”

She nodded, waiting for him to continue. “I guess what I mean is that I won’t ask for marriage if you won’t ask me to share you with anyone else.”

Phryne released a breath she hadn’t even realized she had been holding. The sacrifice he was asking of her was nothing above what she had already imposed upon herself. She smiled shyly. “You haven’t shared me in months, so I don’t see you starting anytime soon.”

Relief washed over Jack, but he couldn’t resist raising an incredulous eyebrow. “Not at all, Miss Fisher? I find that very hard to believe given everything London has to offer.”

She gave him a saucy look. “Well, there were a few who seemed promising at first, but I found them all rather brutish and unrefined, quite unlike the gentleman I’d come to appreciate here in Australia.” 

It was Jack’s turn to send the pillow flying in Phryne’s direction 

Deftly avoiding the projectile, Phryne then leaned into Jack, resting her head against his shoulder. “Although if jealousy is your metric, apparently I’m not as modern as you may think either. I’m just lucky I was able to hide my thoughts when I walked into your office and saw you holding another woman’s hand.”

Jack furrowed his brow. “Wait, what?” He racked his brain for an explanation. “You… you mean Mrs. Allen?” Phryne smiled and nodded; Jack remained quite confused.

“But… she was upset, and that was for a case…”

Phryne cupped his cheek and gave him a quick peck on the lips. “I’m not saying it makes sense, and I’m certainly not angry about it. I was just surprised; as you can imagine, jealousy isn’t an emotion with which I’m particularly acquainted.”

Jack chuckled and pulled her into his lap, pressing her head against his shoulder. She sighed contentedly, twining her arms around her neck and playing with the short hair at the bottom of his scalp. “To think, the Honorable Miss Phryne Fisher, finally brought down by a simple policeman. Next thing I know, I will be inundated with job applications from Barons and Earls hoping to recreate my success.”

“Who am I to argue with fate? Juliet had her Romeo, Antony had his Cleopatra.”

Jack laughed. “So I’m to be your Cleopatra? Because I’m quite sure I wouldn’t fit into that costume of yours.”

Phryne leaned back, making a show of taking his measurements with her eyes. Jack couldn’t help but flush under the weight of her gaze.

“True,” she said with a joking pout. “But fortunately I prefer you as a roman soldier.”

He tilted his head and brought his forehead to rest against hers, his whispered baritone voice rumbling against her lips. “Good. Because you certainly have transformed me into a fool, Miss Fisher.”

He pressed his lips against hers, gently but confidently, the hesitation of his previous kisses gone. Bringing one hand up to cradle her cheek, he broke the kiss, ignoring her whimpered plea. He brought his lips down to her neck, caressing and nipping along her collarbone until he could feel her breathing grow shallow and rapid. Content with her response, he returned to her mouth, kissing her desperately. She returned the kiss with force, thrusting her tongue between his lips until it met his.

She had imagined this kiss countless times, picturing how he would feel under her and against her, but the reality was overwhelming. It didn’t matter that she was in his lap laying across the sofa; she needed him closer. In one graceful movement, she swung a leg around so she faced him, one knee perched on either side of his hip. The angle allowed her to grab his face with both hands, kissing him frantically until their teeth gnashed and their lips were swollen. Jack traced his arms down her neck and over her shoulders and torso, thumbs gently grazing her breasts. As they passed her nipples, she gasped and instinctively bucked her hips against him, earning a growl of pleasure from Jack.

Desperate to feel her against him again, he brought one hand back up to caress her breasts, first gently, then firmer in time with her moans. He wrapped his other hand behind her, grasping her buttocks and pulling her tight against his hardening length. He was in awe of her, amazed at how badly she wanted- no, needed, him. Every little touch, each caress would elicit some kind of gasp or cry, and he wanted to catalogue each sound until he knew everything about her body.

Breaking away for air, she lifted her chest until he took her breast in his mouth, his tongue circling her pebbled nipples through the thin silk. She took his hands in hers, pulling them up her thighs and over her hips, dipping his fingers under the hem of her blouse and up her torso. His fingers danced over her skin, leaving goosebumps in their wake. Overwhelmed by his touch, she bucked against him again, digging her nails into his chest. She threw her head back and moaned his name.

Jack was entranced. It was hard enough for him to believe someone as vibrant and brilliant as The Honorable Phryne Fisher would be interested in him at all, but here she was, screaming his name in ecstasy. Emboldened, he grasped her breasts just shy of painfully and growled into her jaw. “Say it again.”

“Jack,” she moaned. “Please…”

He dropped his hands to the bottom of her skirt, fingers tracing the stockings beneath. “Please what, Phryne,” he rasped, inching his hands up her thighs. 

“Please,” she pleaded as his hands slowly pushed their across her garter. “Jack, touch me,” she begged. He slowly trailed his fingers up her legs and over the lace hems of her underwear. One hand left her leg and splayed against her back to support her weight. His free hand slowly moved closer to her core, caressing her through the thin lace underwear. The sensation made her keen and dig her face into Jack’s shoulders to stifle a cry. He turned his head into hers, kissing along her neck to reclaim her lips. Slowly, gently, he pushed her panties to the side, tucking his fingers into her folds to find the small bud of nerves that would give her the most pleasure. Jack shuddered when he felt how wet she was for him, and began running his fingers in gentle circles against her. As he continued to caress her, her kisses became more demanding and her hips twitched and keened erratically. He could feel the muscles in her back coiling as her orgasm neared, so he pressed his thumb against her and gently entered her with his index and middle fingers. He pumped them in and out of her a few times until he felt her clench around him and her whole body shake with release. He caressed her a few more times, bringing her down gradually until she collapsed limply against his shoulder, panting and humming happily. Jack wrapped his arms around her waist, holding her tightly and savoring the feeling of her in his arms.

After a minute she looked up at him sheepishly, still somewhat out of breath. “I’m sorry, it’s… it’s been a while.”

Jack raised his eyebrow in an incredulous look.

“Well for ME it’s been a while.” Jack chuckled and kissed the top of her head. Phryne reached down and tugged on his tie, giving him a sultry look. “I was thinking it might be time to retire upstairs. Don’t you?”

It was Jack’s turn to look sheepish. “I should probably get home, it’s late.” Phryne’s face twisted first in confusion, then hurt, then fixed to a practiced expression of nonchalance.

“I… I understand if you don’t want-”

Jack’s heart melted at the thought of the unflappable Phryne Fisher feeling insecure. He stopped her with a searing kiss that he hoped conveyed his point. “Miss Fisher, you are a detective. There is some very substantial evidence right here of just how badly I want.” She smirked at his wording. “However, the not-quite-so-modern part of me would like to step out with you publically at least once before absconding to your boudoir for any number of reprehensible things.”

Phryne smiled wickedly, looking up at him through her lashes. “In that case, pick me up tomorrow at seven.”

Jack cocked his head in confusion. “Miss Fisher, are you asking me on a date?”

“No, of course not. You’re asking me on a date. I just got there a little before you did.”

Jack laughed and lined kisses down her neck. “Well, in that case it would be quite rude to miss an appointment I made myself.” He braced himself to stand, but Phryne made it clear she was not prepared to vacate his lap just yet. She braced her hands on either side of her waist, dipping her nose against his neck.

“I do have one more complaint to lodge before you leave, Inspector.”

Jack angled his head to whisper in her ear. “Oh? And what might that be?”

“You got to see me come undone in your hands, but are denying me the same pleasure.” As she spoke, she raked her hands across his hips to cup him through his trousers. His eyes, which she was watching closely for hints of discomfort darkened into a stormy gray before he closed them with a crisp exhale. Eyes still closed, he pressed his hips up into her hands.

“I’ve wanted this for so long, Phryne, I…”

She pressed her finger to his lips and kissed circled along his jawline. “Shhh. Just relax.”

“Just so you know, um, it’s, uh, been a while. And I know for a fact my definition of “a while” is much longer than yours. I don’t want to-”

She cupped his cheek and lifted his face so he had no choice but to look her in the eyes. “Jack Robinson, you’ve already had my screaming your name in pleasure tonight. Nothing you could do will change how wonderful that was. Now let me prove to you just how much I mean that.”

She felt his muscles relax as he gave into her, and he pressed himself once more against her hand. She gently caressed him, kissing his lips lovingly to reinforce her words. As she felt him start to throb under her fingers, she slowly unbuttoned his trousers and drew him out. She smiled wantonly at the sight of him, and he gasped and closed his eyes at the feeling of him in her hands, unable to control his trembling as she slowly caressed him. Once his breathing became ragged and he felt rock hard in her hands, she slithered down his body, kneeling on the floor in front of him. His eyes widened in shock as she first ran her lips along his length, and he yelped when she finally took him in her mouth. He threw one hand back into the cushions of the couch to steady himself while he cupped her cheek with the other, moving his hips in time with her ministrations. As he gasped a warning of her impending release, she hummed in approval against him, sending shocks up through his torso and down his toes. For a split second, everything around him except for Phryne disappeared and he exploded with a shout into her mouth. He felt her smile around him while she slowed down, gently bringing him back down from his release.

When his sight returned, he looked down to see a disheveled Phryne, wiping her mouth with a hungry look in her eyes. Her hair was disheveled and makeup long wiped off, but she had never looked so beautiful. He could feel his eyes getting misty as he pulled her back up for a long, gentle kiss. A feeling of contentment, stronger than he’d felt in at least a decade, swept over him as this brilliant, amazing woman kissed him, his taste still thick on her tongue.

Jack wrapped his arms around her neck and kissed the top of her head. “She does indeed make hungry where she most satisfies.”

Phryne gently tucked him back into his trousers, deftly buttoning the fly and pulling Jack up off the sofa. Once they were both standing, she wrapped her arms around his face, pulling his lips down to hers.

“Indeed, Inspector.” They kissed for a few minutes more before Jack’s internal alarm clock and sense of propriety led them to her front door. He donned his coat and hat, facing Phryne once more. He reached out and smoothed her hair and caressed her cheek.

“Will I see you at the station tomorrow?”

“Of course. We have a murderer to catch, after all.”

“And then I’ll pick you up tomorrow night at seven.”

“I’ll be waiting.”

Jack turned, crossing the deck towards the street. “Oh, Inspector?”

“Hmm?”

“Tell the not-quite-so-modern part of yourself that he might want to pack an overnight bag tomorrow.”

Jack smiled and tipped his hat. “I’ll see what I can do, Miss Fisher.”


	16. Chapter 16

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Thank you all for the kind words :-) I really appreciate it. Here's some plot! More coming soon, too!

Jack arrived at the station early the next morning, hoping to catch a break in the case that would free up his evening for his promised date with Phryne. He had requisitioned tax and employment records from both the cadre of local dock hands as well as the primary import-export companies that might hire help on the side. His usually neat desk was awash in papers and registers, piled haphazardly according to their potential promise. After hours of scanning through thousands of names, Jack was getting frustrated. Too many months had passed for the information to be as useful as he needed, and Harry was a frustratingly common name. He watched the clock tick by slowly, his hopes of an enjoyable evening with Miss Fisher fading fast.

He slapped the pile of papers in his hand onto his desk and leaned back in his chair in frustration. “Why couldn’t he have a unique, memorable name like Hercules or Ozymandias???”

“Because that would make your job far too easy, and you get moody when you’re bored.”

Jack jumped, neither realizing he had spoken out loud or that Miss Fisher was leaning in his doorway with an amused look on her face. Recovering quickly, he made a show of looking at his wristwatch. “So kind of you to eventually join us, Miss Fisher. Finally decide to obey the speed limit today, did we?”

Phryne stuck her tongue out at him, sauntering into the office and spinning proudly for Jack to survey her attire. “Well? What do you think?”

Jack’s jaw set, and he shook his head intently. “I have no idea what this is, but no. No. No.” 

She was dressed in drab beiges and browns, her dress and stockings showing visible signs of wear. Her hair and makeup were the same, but she was wearing a simple kerchief instead of the more stylish barrettes and fascinators she usually preferred. 

She plopped into a chair and pouted, resting her elbows on her knees and holding her face in her hands. “Jack, you can’t say no until you at least know what the plan is.” 

Jack raised an eyebrow, begging to differ. “Fine, tell me the plan if you insist. And THEN I will say no.”

“Well, given how much time has passed, I figured you might not find anything useful in the records. And since we have a physical description, we might as well take advantage of it!” She paused, pulling a pitiful face and adopting the Collingwood accent he had heard her use once or twice before. “Please, sir, I’m looking for me brother Harry. I know he worked here a few months back, but we’ve had a falling out and I’m not sure where to find him.”

Jack didn’t like it one bit, but he couldn’t ignore the fact that the idea was quite brilliant. Her acting was decent, and he bet she was both pathetic and attractive enough that most of the wharfies wouldn’t think twice about divulging information to her. And with a name and description, surely someone would know who they were looking for.

“No, it’s too dangerous. For all we know he is still working there or his father died years ago. We can’t risk you being found out.”

Phryne stomped her foot in frustration, and Jack stifled a laugh at just how much she could resemble a spoilt child when she didn’t get her way. “But Jack, how else will we find him before he goes and hurts someone else? Do you have a better idea?”

Jack thought for a bit. “As a matter of fact I do. You will still go to the docks, but you’re canny enough to know that they can be a bit dangerous for a young woman alone. Which is why you’ve requested a police escort to assist in your search.”

Phryne was fuming. “Now listen here, Inspector, I’m not a child. I can do this without a babysitter.”

Jack reached across the desk and put a hand on your cheek. “I know you aren’t. I don’t doubt for a second that you can do this, but if you recall, even I don’t like to do simple arrests without a backup. You I trust implicitly. Them, not so much. 

Phryne continued to glare at him.

“Be angry if you’d like, but it is non-negotiable. And nothing I wouldn’t insist for any of my other officers, I might add.”

She squinted at him for a moment, then stood decisively. “Fine. But don’t get in my way.”

Jack did his best to mimic her wide-eyed innocent look. “Wouldn’t dream of it, Miss Fisher.”

\--

The police escort ruse gave them the added advantage of being able to drive Jack’s car directly onto the docks in plain sight. Jack was able to relax slightly knowing their means of escape would be within sight at all times. Jack stepped out of the car, crossing to the passenger side to offer Phryne his arm. She had put a dab of rouge on her nose and eyes, and had been rubbing them slightly for a puffy, watery look. Jack tried to stifle a laugh when she leaned heavily against him as he lifted her out of the car, but was able to regain control of his face when she hissed a warning in his ear. He tried to comfort her, speaking loudly enough that those nearby could understand what he was saying, both to garner sympathy as well as signal that he wasn’t there on any outstanding warrants or other criminal complaints.

Once Phryne pretended to get hear bearings, Jack gently gestured to a group of workers standing nearby who were showing interest in them but trying not to stare. She nodded and made her way towards them while Jack stood by in watch. He was impressed at how completely her demeanor had changed; gone was the self-assured walk he could see coming from a mile away, and in its place was a small, shy, insecure housewife. He clenched his fists unconsciously at the way some of the men leered at her, thankful that he was there on the off chance one of them tried anything inappropriate. After apparently not making any progress with the first group, she slowly moved on, passing from person to person, hoping to find someone who recognized the description. He shifted slightly as she made her rounds, making sure he had a clear path to her without signaling how invested in her safety he actually was.

For her part, Phryne was getting annoyed at the boorishness of the men she was speaking with. Few were willing to speak with her outside propositions and cat calls, and those who did had no information for her. She was tempted to dress down some of the more egregious offenders, but knew it would not be in character for the grieving daughter she was portraying. She would occasionally glance back at Jack, who was leaning nonchalantly against the car, but she could tell by the set of his jaw that he was as uncomfortable, if not more, as she was with the situation. Finally, after her fourth or fifth group of people, someone recognized the description.

“Yea, I seen him, just th’ other day. Why you askin’?”

“Our father just died a few days back, and no one told him yet. Please, I need to find him.”

“If he wanted you to know where he were, you wouldn’t have to come sniveling down here with some copper. Why should I tell you if he won’t?”

Phryne shrunk into herself, hugging her arms in front of her chest and spoke to the ground. “We… we had a row a while back. ‘E didn’t like me husband, thought he was a little too rough with me. Rene meant well, ya see, didn’t mean to hurt me, he was just a mean drunk. Anyways Harry didn’t like seein’ me get hurt.” She let her eyes tear up a bit, then glanced up at the man to see his skepticism melt into pity.

“There there, girlie, I understand. Just can’t be too careful these days. Saw ole Anderson about a week back. He said he’s working the nightclub scene now… don’t pay as well, but the work is much easier and if you screw up at one, there’s always another looking to hire. He’s working at some place called Finn’s now, I think.”

“Thank you so much, I can’t even begin to say how helpful you’ve been.”

“What’s yer name, miss? If I see him I’ll tell him you were lookin’.”

Phryne almost felt bad for deceiving the man. Almost. She shot him a dazzling smile beneath her red, swollen nose. “Janey. Thanks again.” With that she turned and made her way back to Jack. Once they were both safe in the car headed back to the station, she gave him a determined look.

“We’ve got you, you bastard.”


	17. Chapter 17

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you again for the encouragement! It means a lot :-) Life has been a bit hectic lately and i'm running behind, so this chapter hasn't been proofread as much as the others have been. Hopefully there aren't too many errors, but I wanted to get it posted so I can start on the next ones. We aren't in the finishing stretch yet, but we are getting pretty close.

As soon as they returned to City South, Jack had sent a few junior officers out to obtain the schematics for the club and nearby buildings so he could plan a raid. Phryne watched in amused silence as he barked orders to the officers on duty. Once he was satisfied that everyone understood their tasks for the evening, he sat at his desk reviewing the blueprints and identifying potential entry and exit points. Phryne assumed her perch on the edge of his desk and joined him in analyzing the prints.

“I do so love a man with authority.”

Jack looked up confused. “Is this a new development? If memory serves, you prefer to do everything you can to undermine it.”

Phryne feigned an insulted look. “Jack, you know I only do that if you try to wield it against me. Your men are quite another story.”

“Unfortunately they aren’t the ones who need it,” he deadpanned. At first Phryne was worried she had pushed him a little far, but then he smirked and laid his hand on her knee for a second before turning again to the blueprints.

“You know, I’m not sure a raid is the most logical approach. After all, Edmond doesn’t know we are on to him yet, and we don’t know if he has found another target. His timeline has been unpredictable, after all.”

“I agree, but I’m not sure what else to do. He has escaped before, and there is a good chance he will remember our faces from the Starlight Club”

“He will remember a cop, not you.” Phryne pouted. “Besides, we were going to go out tonight. There’s no reason we can’t kill two birds with one stone!”

“Miss Fisher, you know there is no way I can ignore my responsibilities because we were supposed to go on a date. We don’t know what his timeline is, and for all we know he already has another couple in his clutches.” Jack’s voice was firm, but Phryne could see the uncertainty in his eyes. This was clearly an argument he was used to making and wasn’t sure what her reaction would be.

Her expression softened. “Jack, I’d never ask you to. I’m just saying that since we will be at the club, we might as well have a little fun, and we might learn something and not need to bring in the big guns.”

Jack sighed. “So what are you proposing?”

“You know how much I love undercover work.” Jack glared at her. “Hear me out!” She pointed to the blueprint, pointing down a long hallway. “This is the only logical room for him to use. Everything else is either big enough that it is either the kitchen or some open space, or small enough that it can only be used for storage. And fortunately, there isn’t an exit down that hall. He needs to come through either here,” she said, pointing to the main entrance, “or here,” she said, tracing her finger through the back of the kitchen. She then tapped the large central area that was undoubtedly the dance floor. “And from this vantage point, we can see everything.” She smirked. “Although, if you want to make sure we can watch each others’ backs and whisper observations into each others’ ears, we will need to be dancing nice and close.”

“And just how is this simpler than a raid?”

“Because it is the only way we can catch him in the act. If you show up with a dozen men in uniform, he will scrap any plans he had and we might be stuck with only circumstantial evidence. However, if we are able to apprehend him in the act, well… you know better than I do that that’s the best case scenario.”

Jack mulled over her proposal. “There is a certain logic to that. However, we can’t approach someone that dangerous without a minimum level of manpower.” He again looked at the blueprints, ticking off numbers and distances in his head. “We will station plainclothes officers on each end of the dance floor, as well as near the kitchen and the back rooms. Then we will have teams of two by each entrance ready to enter if necessary.”

Phryne leaned down and kissed him on the forehead. “See! This will be so much fun! Now if you’ll excuse me, I need to prepare for tonight. I’m assuming you will still pick me up a seven?”

Jack shrugged helplessly. “Seven it is. Although let me remind you that this is a case, and not a date, Miss Fisher.”

Phryne hopped off the desk and grabbed her coat and hat from the rack. “Of course not. But that doesn’t mean we can’t have fun!”

“Knowing your definition of fun, I’m afraid that is exactly what it means.”

Phryne pointedly ignored him. “Although Jack, if you want to stay unrecognized for more than five minutes, you are going to need to find another outfit. They will make you as a policeman right away in that getup.” She smiled devilishly. “I’d be happy to find an outfit for you tonight!”

“Miss Fisher, I have actually done undercover work without your assistance before. Quite successfully, if I might add.”

Phryne smoothed his lapels and kissed him on the cheek. “Of course you have, darling. But my expectations of my dates are might higher than those of your average criminal.” And before he could reply, she turned and walked out the door.

“It’s an investigation, not a date, Miss Fisher!” he yelled after her. 

She stopped and peeked her head back into the office. “Tomayto, tomahto.”

Jack just shook his head and returned to his planning.

\---  
Jack showed up at Wardlow shortly before seven, in the exact outfit he had been wearing at the office. Phryne, heading down to meet him stopped on the middle of her staircase and jutted out her hip. “You look like a police officer.”

“As surprising as this may be, Miss Fisher, I actually AM a police officer. The disguise is quite fitting, since this IS a police operation.” He took his hat off and looked up at her, eyes growing wide as he took in her outfit. She was all beads and sequins, with a dress that managed to be both form fitting and flowing at the same time. The beads were the same dark black as her hair, while the sequins caught the blue of her eyes. As she moved gracefully down to meet him, the beads swung and clacked as if applauding at every step.

She walked towards him, kissing him gently, bringing her hand up to caress his cheek. Then, before he could react, she reached into his hair and shook it vigorously, loosening the pomade that held back his thick curls. After a few passes, she stepped back, admiring her handiwork. It gave him a more disheveled, slightly puckish look that she found both enticing and completely at odds with his buttoned up persona.

“There. It’s far from ideal, but at least now you look somewhat disreputable.”

Jack was apprehensive (he couldn’t remember the last time he willingly went out without his hair appropriately styled), but Phryne looked too pleased with herself for him to have the heart to fix it.

“And that’s a good thing?” he asked incredulously.

“Of course! I have a reputation for debauched and inappropriate behavior that I wouldn’t want to sully by stepping out with an uptight inspector.”

At her response, Jack grabbed her and kissed her soundly, eliciting squeals of laughter as he smeared her perfectly applied makeup. “You keep that up and we’ll never make it to the club!”

Jack gave her a look of wide-eyed innocence, made all the more ridiculous by the lipstick now smeared on his face. “But you were concerned with your reputation. I was merely accommodating the lady’s wishes, as any gentleman would do.”

Phryne laughed and, accepting a handkerchief from Mr. Butler, cleaned the lipstick off Jack’s face. “True. I suppose you’ll do. But we are taking the Hispano.”

They waved goodbye to Mr. Butler and made their way to the car.


	18. Chapter 18

Even though it was still somewhat early on a weeknight, the club was full. The lights were dim and the air smoky, but despite the dark ambience, the club was warm and inviting. A small jazz band had set up in the corner of the dance floor and was crooning out a slow romantic ballad designed to encourage even the shyest dancers. There were high top tables set up around the perimeter, with bystanders sipping drinks and watching the crowd. Phryne swayed to the music as they walked out to the dance floor, while Jack located and nodded to the three other undercover officers already positioned throughout the club.

Phryne led Jack to the middle of the dance floor, feigning drunkenness to justify jostling other couples out of the way as she found her ideal location. When she was happy with the results, she wrapped Jack’s hands around her waist, running her fingers up his arms and shoulders until she clasped them together behind his neck. Jack let her pull him close but gave her a stern look.

“Miss Fisher, but I have colleagues out there who are watching our every move. Do try to remember we are here on business and behave yourself.”

Phryne pouted. “Why, Inspector, are you scared of me?”

Jack chuckled and whispered in her ear. “I’m not sure what scares me more, what you might do, or how I might respond. Even a gentleman runs out of self-control at some point.”

Jack felt Phryne smile against his cheek. “And here I was beginning to think yours was endless.”

“Far from it, Miss Fisher, especially where you are involved.” Phryne hummed in response, and Jack leaned back to catch her eyes. “That was not intended as a challenge, Miss Fisher.”

Phryne twirled in time with the music. “Of course not, Inspector,” she said with a mischievous smile. All Jack could do was sigh.

Several hours passed in a similar manner, with Jack and Phryne stationed in the middle of the dance floor, watching the crowd and keeping each other company. Periodically, Jack would retire to the bar for drinks while Phryne (under the guise of flirting) would check in with the undercover officers. 

Shortly after midnight, Phryne had the uneasy feeling of being watched. Scanning the perimeter of the bar, she saw what felt like a familiar figure eyeing them suspiciously. She quickly averted her glance to avoid making eye contact, but kept the figure in her peripheral vision. She hadn’t gotten a good look at the figure at the Starlight Club, but from what she remembered he looked the part. He was dressed in shirtsleeves and an apron, carrying a bucket and satchel over his shoulder. He kept glancing back at Phryne and Jack, but was eventually satisfied at their lack of response and wandered down the back hallway.

Phryne whispered her findings into Jack’s ears, and he signaled subtly to the other officers, pointing down the hallway. He pulled her close, playing a romantic embrace to plan their next steps.

“Do you have your lockpicks?” Phryne pointed to a set of pins holding her hat in place. “Good. Hopefully we found him before he was able to kidnap anyone else, but I’m not optimistic. We will focus on apprehending him, but I want you to unlock all the rooms down that hallway just in case. Got it?” Phryne nodded. “And Phryne, if you see him, please, I’m begging you, don’t engage him. He’s dangerous, and I don’t know what I’d do if anything happened to you. Not now.” As much as he had tried to keep his voice light, Phryne couldn’t miss the catch in his throat. For a split second she was annoyed; she had survived far worse than this and resented the idea that he didn’t think she could hold her own against their suspect. But her eyes connected with his, she saw the words behind what he had said. Of course he trusted her to fend for herself; if he didn’t, he wouldn’t have accepted her help in the first place. She was used to taking her life into her own hands, but now his happiness, not just her own, depended on her safety. Before she had a chance to panic at the realization, she nodded at Jack, throwing herself into the task at hand. She kissed him on the cheek and swayed off the dance floor like she was going towards the bar, turning down the hallway at the last moment, making sure it was clear.

The hall was narrow and deep, ending in two doors that appeared to be lavatories. Two thick oak doors were evenly spaced on the left side of the hallway. She wasn’t sure, but Phryne’s best guess was that the right side of the hall was shared with the kitchen. Holding her ear up to the first door, she knocked lightly. Not hearing any sound from inside, she tried the knob to find it (unsurprisingly) locked. Fortunately, the mechanism was one she had seen before, and within a matter of minutes the lock was picked and the door open. Inside was a small room that was clearly used as an office. There was a desk covered in papers and ledgers, and a small safe in the corner. There was one window, but it was too high on the wall to effectively be used as an entrance or exit. Not seeing anything suspicious, she backed out of the room, carefully locking the door behind her to hide her presence.

There was no sound at the second door either, but the knob felt odd under her fingers, and even more so when she inserted her pin into the lock. It took far longer than the other door, but eventually she was able to manipulate the pins enough to turn the knob. She opened the door to what looked like a lounge. There was a large bookshelf on one side of the room, with a well-worn couch pushed up against the far wall. Two people, a man and a woman, were slumped together on the couch, with puddles and shattered glass at their feet where their drinks had fallen. The air smelt strange, almost antiseptic in a way Phryne recognized but couldn’t quite place. She called for Jack, backing slowly out of the room and back into the hallway. She turned around to make her way back to the dance floor when a terrifyingly familiar figure appeared in the hall, rushing towards her. It was all she could do to scream Jack’s name once more before she found herself behind a knob-less door, lockpicks forgotten on the floor outside.

Jack had been patrolling the perimeter of the club, looking for the man Phryne had spotted a few minutes earlier. He’d heard her call and begun making his way to the hallway, moving slowly and aimlessly to avoid suspicion. He was hallway across the floor when he heard her scream his name, his heart stopping at the panic in her voice. He was almost to the entrance of the hall when he saw a figure shove Phryne into a room and twist a key closed behind him.

Jack stalked into the hall menacingly, trapping the figure before it had a chance to slip back into the club. The man stood in the back of the hall, trying to decide what to do next. His face seemed torn between feigning innocence and fighting back.

“Harry, you are going to need to come with us. Or, should I call you Edmond?”

As he realized the implications of Jack’s use of both his alias and given name, Edmond’s face hardened into a snarl. Jack barely caught a metallic glint in the corner of his eye before the man charged at him in a desperate attempt to escape. Jack sidestepped him just in time to feel a sharp sting tear down his arm as the knife missed its intended target. Jack didn’t remember calling for help, but he must have; within seconds, the other officers were in the hall, surrounding Edmond from all sides. Loud whistles reverberated through the club as the officers waiting by the exits poured in to manage the crowd and provide backup as needed.

Confident that Edmond was contained by the other officers, Jack called out for Phryne, pounding desperately on the door when the lock wouldn’t turn. When she didn’t respond, his fists gave way to his shoulders and eventually his feet, slamming and kicking his weight against the thick oak doors. Panic set in as nothing worked. Unsure what else to do, Jack drew his pistol and fired several shots against the door jamb. Wood splintered and cracked as he kicked just below the handle, splintering the door and finally giving him entry to the room. 

Phryne was conscious, but just barely, slumped on the floor in the middle of the room. “Air… drugged… careful…” she rasped. She gestured limply behind her. “Still alive.”

Jack took a deep breath and ran into the room, scooping Phryne up and carrying her into the hall. He gently placed her against the far wall before running back into the room to do the same to the two victims, checking their breathing and pulse to confirm Phryne’s assertion of life.

Breathing the smoky but otherwise clear air in the club, Phryne quickly began to recuperate. Her head was throbbing and her movements felt slow and labored, but she could at least sit up and think somewhat clearly. “The room was drugged. I don’t think it was meant to kill, but to keep his victims quiet and calm until the club cleared out for the evening. That’s how he was able to keep from being caught.” Her voice was weak and unsteady at first, but got gradually stronger.

Jack hadn’t realized how terrified he was until the relief at her recovery began to wash over him, He didn’t relax entirely; her words were still a little slurred and pupils were far too small for the low light levels, but she was alive and talking to him. “We need get you to Dr. MacMillan to make sure you weren’t given anything too serious.”

“No, really Jack, I’m fine, I wasn’t in there for very long.” She nodded towards the two bodies, still unconscious, propped up next to her. “But still call her, I’m sure they need medical attention.”

It wasn’t until then that she noticed Jack’s blood soaked arm. “Jack!” she gasped. “Are you ok??? What happened?!?” 

In his state of panic, Jack had all but forgotten his injury, but the pain came rushing back as the adrenaline subsided. He gently pressed around the wound, trying to determine how deep into his arm the cut ran. He tried to hide his wince, but even in her compromised state, Phryne could tell he was in a substantial amount of pain.

“It’s nothing I haven’t dealt with before. He had a knife, and a slash to the arm is much better than what he was aiming to do.” He watched as Phryne stood, wobbly and uneasy on her feet. “We know what happened to me, but until I know what you were dosed with, you’re still seeing Mac.” 

Phryne rolled her eyes, but didn’t have the energy to argue. She tried to step forward off the wall, but swayed dangerously as her knee bent under her own weight. Jack walked around her side so she could take his uninjured arm. As she leaned against his side, he wrapped his arm around her waist, holding her up so she could walk back into the club with some dignity intact. The dance floor had been evacuated. Some more curious bystanders were standing off to the side behind a police barricade, trying to see why the police had been called.

Phryne smiled wanly at Hugh, who had appeared with a cadre of uniformed officers and was now holding the handcuffed Edmond, who in turn was glaring at Phryne with unrestrained rage. Hugh straightened to attention as Jack approached. 

“Sir, Dr. MacMillan has been notified and should be here soon to treat the victims.”

Jack turned to the two officers nearest the hall and directed them to stay with the man and woman. “Thank you, Collins. When she arrives, please inform her to proceed to Miss Fisher’s house once she has finished here. Miss Fisher was exposed to the same drug, albeit only briefly. Then escort Edmond to City South where he can enjoy the hospitality of one of our cells this evening. I will question him in the morning.”

Hugh eyed his mentor’s bloodied arm suspiciously, but nodded. “Yes, sir.”

Jack and Phryne crossed the floor slowly, taking their leave. Phryne was feeling more solid on her feet and thought she was likely able to stand on her own, but Jack showed no interest in relaxing his grip, and Phryne wasn’t sure she wanted him to. They were halfway to the door when a reedy and thoroughly unpleasant voice snarled across the room.

“Bitch!”, Edmond growled. “I should have killed you instead of locking you up.”

Phryne straightened her back, then turned slowly, icy eyes locking with angry ones. “Yes, yes you should have. But now it is my turn to decide between killing you or locking you up, and I won’t make the same mistake.” She turned again, taking her place against Jack’s side and strolled out of the club, deaf to the screams of rage echoing behind her.


	19. Chapter 19

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Another chapter! This ended up being far sweeter than i had thought it would be, but who am I to argue with Jack? And don't worry, there is a more smut, and a little more plot to come in the next few chapters.
> 
> And thank you again for the encouragement and kind words, especially about the dialogue and Phrack's sparring! Writing Jack and Phryne's interaction is both the most rewarding and time consuming part because they are both such strong characters, it can take quite a few tries to get their voices quite right.
> 
> As always, this is unbeta'd so apologies for any syntax and grammar errors, and thoughts/recommendations are welcome!

Phryne’s head was still pounding by the time they made it back to her house, but she had regained full use of her limbs and her strength had returned. Hugh must have called Dot to expect them, since both she and Mr. Butler were nervously waiting at the door for their arrival. Before Jack and Phryne made it up the front steps, Dottie had thrown open the front door and ushered them inside, fretting like a mother hen. Mr. Butler pressed warm drinks of a deep amber hue into their hands, describing it as a family recipe to help calm the nerves. It smelled warm and inviting, and if Phryne had to hazard a guess, highly alcoholic. She thanked him, and asked Dot to prepare some boiling water and bring a pile of clean towels.

They went into the parlor, where Phryne sat Jack on the side of the sofa and gently began peeling off his jacket and shirt. It was slow going, since the blood had begun to cake and stick the rough cloth to his skin. Jack could only grimace, alternating between clenching his teeth and gulping his drink to steel himself against the pain. By the time the ruined clothes were removed and heaped on the floor, Dot had reappeared with a large bucket of water, a bandage, and a pile of towels draped over her shoulder. Phryne couldn’t help but smile as Dot flushed and averted her eyes from Jack’s half undressed state. She gathered up the clothes and assessed the damage, pursing her lips in thought.

“Don’t even bother trying, Mrs. Collins,” Jack said. “Between the blood and the holes, it’s no use trying to repair them. I have other suits.”

“Thank you, Inspector. I’ll add them to the rag pile. At least the parts I can get the blood out of.” She curtsied and left the room.

Phryne smirked at her companion’s innocence. “You’d think, despite being married, that she’s never seen a man’s torso before.”

Jack cracked a smile. “Well, with Collins, you never know.”

Phryne gently dipped a towel in the hot water, wringing it out before wiping large circles over his arm. Jack hissed in pain as the towel ghosted over the wound, but the heat was numbing and calming. As one towel became too blood-saturated to clean effectively, she discarded it in favor of a clean one until a jagged five-inch long gash appeared, tracing from just below his shoulder halfway to his elbow. Phryne gently pushed on the skin on either side of the wound to gauge how deep it went.

“It looks like you got pretty lucky. It will need to be stitched closed, but it isn’t nearly deep enough to reach bone and the muscle damage is limited.” She unrolled the bandage and began to gently wrap it around his arm. “Mac will take this off when she arrives, but this will help with the bleeding until then.”

Jack watched as her hands nimbly bandaged his arm, dabbing with towels as she went to keep the area clean. Wrapped in her stylish clothes it was so easy to forget that she must have done this hundreds of times during the war, tending to men far more injured than he currently was. When the wound was covered but before she had a chance to tuck in the free end of the bandage, Jack pulled his arm from her hands and wrapped it around her waist, pulling her up towards him.

“Jack, your arm! Be careful, I’m not done yet!”

“I don’t care, I need this more than a bandage right now.” He pulled her against him so she sat sideways across his lap, head tucked against his shoulder. His hand caressed her cheek, while his lips rested against her forehead. They sat there in silence for a moment, until Phryne felt Jack’s arms relax around her. She lifted her head so she could see his face, which was troubled and deep in thought.

“Jack, what is it?”

Jack watched her for a moment, trying to figure out how to explain what he was thinking in a way that wouldn’t scare her. “I’m trying to get that sound out of my head.” Phryne wasn’t entirely sure what he meant, but waited as he searched for the right words. “You were right the other night when you said certain sounds take me back to the war. Like a car misfiring, or certain gunshots. And it is terrifying. But none of them came close to the panic I felt when you screamed my name in terror. I didn’t expect to affect me this much.” He shrugged, then winced as the movement shifted the bandage on his arm. “I’m still trying to get the sound out of my head.”

Phryne leaned in and kissed him gently. “Don’t worry, love. We will just have to find far more pleasant sounds to replace it.” Jack grunted and pulled her close, clasping her tightly against him. He kissed her roughly, lips and teeth colliding in his desperation to feel her against him. He felt her breath change to short gasps as she began to tremble and whimper. 

He stopped for a moment and leaned his forehead against hers, eyes closed and out of breath. “I think we are off to a good start,” he panted, before claiming her lips again. He didn’t know how long they sat, tangled up in each other, but they didn’t hear Mr. Butler’s polite knock or Mac’s barging into the parlor.

“And just what the hell do you two think you are doing?” Mac demanded sternly. First she pointed at Jack. “I don’t care if the wound is cleaned, you know to keep it elevated and not to put stress on it until the bleeding is slowed. You’ve already bled through the bandage and could be making the cut deeper.” She turned to Phryne. “And you, drinking alcohol before we know what you were exposed to? What if it had reacted badly?”

Jack’s eyes widened in fear as he grabbed the glass from Phryne’s hand. Realizing he had used his injured arm which was supposed to be still and elevated, he looked frantically for a table to dispose of the glass, only to give up and raise his arm over the back of the couch, glass held high like he was preparing for a toast. Phryne, who knew Mac well enough to see that she was toying with them, stifled a smirk and slid out of Jack’s lap into a spot on the sofa next to him.

Mac rolled her eyes, and placed her medical bag on the table, pulling out the supplies she would need to tend to Jack’s wound. She turned to Jack. “Don’t worry, Phryne will be just fine. It was ether, and quite a dangerous dose for the other two, but she was only in there for a few minutes. The other two are stable and resting comfortably, although they are going to have some nasty nausea and headaches for a while. You should be able to talk to them in the morning, provided their spouses don’t kill them first.” Jack opened his mouth to speak, but Mac stopped him. “Don’t worry, there’s an officer in the hospital with them. Now, let me get a look at your arm.”

Phryne stood to assist Mac, gently unwrapping the bandage. Mac clucked at her when she saw the loose end. “Miss Fisher, you’re woefully out of practice.”

Phryne scoffed indignantly and pointed at Jack. “I am nothing of the sort! He didn’t let me finish before-”

“You don’t need to tell me what happened next, I was there to see it.” Mac examined the wound in much the same way Phryne did. “Well, you got lucky, there is little muscle damage. With some stitches and time, you will be just fine.”

Jack had to stifle a laugh at Phryne’s proud grin as her diagnosis was confirmed. Mac looked back and glared. “Oh, I wouldn’t be so smug about it. This was an easy one. Now hand me the alcohol and sutures. I’m afraid this is going to hurt, Inspector.”

Jack gritted his teeth. “Can’t be more painful than an evening at Mrs. Stanley’s.”

Mac considered the comparison, tilting her head back and forth. “You’re probably right. At least this is over quickly.”

Phryne crossed her arms. “Painful or no, you are still going tomorrow night.”

“Can’t Mac write me a doctor’s excusal?”

Mac’s fingers danced efficiently over Jack’s arm as she sewed small stitches into his arm. “Not if I want to keep my job at the hospital! Sorry, Inspector, you’re on your own for this one.”

“What if I hire you at the Police Department?”

“You already did.”

While Jack searched in vain for additional excuses, Phryne played her trump card. “But Jack, you wouldn’t leave me there alone, forcing me to dance with all those other men Aunt Prudence has been trying to set me up with, would you?”

It was Jack’s turn to glare. Mac knotted the end and snipped off the extra string. “Game, set, match, Inspector.” She dabbed the cut with alcohol once more and wrapped a fresh bandage around his arm before packing her things. “Well, Inspector, be gentle with it and keep it dry for a few days. I’ll be by the station tomorrow to take another look.”

“Mac?” Phryne asked, voice all sweetness and innocence. Mac raised a skeptical eyebrow. “Don’t you think it’s of vital importance that Jack stay here tonight in case his arm gets worse?”

“Are you asking me as a doctor? Or as your friend?”

“Whichever one gives me the answer I’m looking for, of course!”

Mac laughed. “Inspector, as your doctor, I’m telling you that you can go home any time you damn well please.” She looked at the clock on the wall, which was approaching four in the morning. “As your friend, I’m telling you that if you go home, you’re far more stupid than I thought.” She picked up Phryne’s drink and took a quick sip before handing it back to her friend. “Just don’t overdo it.” Picking up her bag, she walked out of the parlor, wished Dot and Mr. Butler a pleasant evening, and left.

After closing the door behind her, Mr. Butler turned to Jack. “Inspector, your nightclothes are laid out on the bed next to Miss Fisher’s.” Jack shot Phryne a confused look, but she just smiled innocently. “If you don’t mind providing your key, I should be able to procure a suit for you to wear in the morning. Conversely, I do have some athletic clothes here you are welcome to use if you would rather stop home in the morning.”

Jack shifted awkwardly; he wasn’t used to being waited on, and as much as he trusted Mr. Butler, the idea of the man rummaging through his closets made him uncomfortable. “Um, if you would be so kind, I think I’ll borrow the athletic clothes; I should stop home before returning to the office.”

Mr. Butler nodded and took his leave, wishing them both a pleasant evening. Phryne stood and faced Jack, then extended her hand to lift him up off the couch and lead him upstairs. He laced his fingers in with hers and stood, coming to rest inches apart.

“Um, Phryne…” he began awkwardly. “Please don’t take this to mean I don’t want…I mean I do, dear god I do, but…”

Phryne smirked, somewhat enjoying his discomfort as he searched for the words he was worried would let her down. She brought her hands to his chest, palms against his skin where his lapels would have been, and gave him a quick kiss on the nose. The silliness of it startled him enough to stop rambling.

“Inspector, are you implying that you actually need to sleep after night where you’ve been stabbed, I’ve been kidnapped and drugged, and you need to be back at work in just a few hours?”

He looked down at her in shock, taking in the bemused look on her face. He ran his fingers through her silky black hair and kissed her gently. “What did I ever do to deserve you?”, he asked sweetly.

She smiled and stepped back, taking both of his hands in hers, leading him out of the parlor and into the hall. “Jane, for starters. And Foyle.”

He raised an eyebrow. “Even though I arrested you in the process?”

“Hmm, true, I’d forgotten about that. Just Jane for now then, but I’m sure I’ll think of something later.”

She led him up the stairs and into her boudoir, where two sets of nightclothes were laid out next to each other on the bed. He paused, fixing the image in his mind, heart swelling at the domesticity of it all. Phryne gave him a questioning look, trying to decipher the soft look in his eyes.

Making light of the moment, Jack picked up the pajamas, turning the soft cotton over in his hands. “So you just happen to have expensive men’s pajamas at the ready, do you? Are all your gentlemen callers treated with such luxuries?”

Phryne laughed. “Don’t be silly, Jack, that would be expensive, even for me. They were lucky if they got flannel.” She took the shirt from his hands, holding it against his chest to check the size. “If you must know, I bought these in London, hoping you might have use for them there. I’m glad to see we will have a chance to put them to good use.”

He took the shirt back from her and retreated to the bathroom to change. Jack figured she was probably amused at his modesty, but wanted to save actually undressing in front of her for a more intimate setting. In the bathroom, a razor and comb were set out for him, yet another testament to Mr. Butler’s prescience. By the time he had shaved, changed, and returned to the bedroom, Phryne was nestled under the covers, blinking at him sleepily. She smiled at him as he walked towards the bed, pulling one side of the sheet down for him.

He turned off the light and climbed in next to her, wrapping his injured arm over her shoulder. He gently wedged his other arm other under the pillow at her neck so she was fully ensconced in his arms, her back was flush against his chest. She sighed happily as she nestled against him, already on the edge of sleep.

He lay there for several minutes, half expecting to wake suddenly in his own cold bed. But he could feel her chest rising in even breaths under his still painful arm, the tickle of her hair against his nose, and even her chilly feet that would occasionally warm themselves against his shins, and eventually convinced himself that it was real. He pressed his face against the back of her head, deeply inhaling the intoxicating mix of orchids, smoke, and sweat.

“I love you”, he mouthed wordlessly against her hair. Feeling lighter than he had in as long as he could remember, he fell into an easy sleep.


	20. Chapter 20

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A resolution of sorts!

Jack blinked in confusion as sunlight hit his eyes at an unfamiliar angle. The sheets felt different and there was a strange warm weight against his chest. As he opened his eyes, the stinging in his arm roused him, and memories of the night before flooded back. He lay on his back, with Phryne next to him on her stomach, leg and arm sprawled over him almost protectively. He smiled at the sight, amused (but not in the least surprised) that someone so slight could take up so much of the bed. As gently as he could, he slowly extricated himself from her arms, trying not to wake her in the process. Once free, he kissed her cheek and climbed out of bed and padded to the bathroom. Mr. Butler had set out a pair of track pants and a white tee shirt that would at least get him home.

Once dressed, he debated for a minute whether to wake Phryne to say goodbye. He eventually decided he didn’t want her to think he had just walked out on her, and sat on the edge of the bed. She now lay on her side, arms wrapped around his pillow like a child with a stuffed toy. He tucked a stray lock of hair behind her ear and leaned in to kiss her cheek.

“Phryne, I have to go to the station.”

“No, you don’t,” she croaked sleepily. “City South called and said you can sleep in.”

Jack smiled at her affectionately. “Oh, they did, did they? And what exactly did they say?”

“That he’s confessed to everything, will likely hang, and the victims are so grateful for your rescue that they’ve offered to do all your paperwork for you.”

“That is awfully kind of them. Although I suspect they will change their minds when they see just how much there is.” He kissed her again. “Will you be able to swing by at all today?”

Phryne stretched arms above her head like a cat, and it took all Jack’s remaining willpower not to join her back in bed. “Only for a little bit around lunchtime. I’ve told Aunt Prudence I’d help her prepare for the fundraiser tonight.”

“Of course. I may to go to the hospital this morning, but I should be back by noon.”

She reached her arms up for a hug, and he leaned into her for a brief but tender kiss. “I’ll see you then, Inspector.”

“I’ll look forward to it, Miss Fisher.” He tucked the blankets back around her and walked to the door. By the time he turned to close the door behind him, she was already fast asleep.

\--

It was after 8 by the time Jack arrived at the office, but given his injury and the late night, none of the officers thought twice. Hugh was already at his post behind the desk, clearly waiting for Jack’s arrival.

“Morning, Collins. Any news?”

“Morning sir! Yes, Mrs. Haynes and Mr. Moore were released from the hospital this morning. Officers have escorted them home for a rest and a change of clothes, but they have been instructed to return this morning at 9. Sorry it’s so late, but I didn’t know when you would be in the office, given your, uh, injury.”

“Thank you Collins that’s quite all right. And has the prisoner been behaving himself?”

“I suppose, sir, although he hasn’t been willing to speak to anyone. He just sits and glares. It’s quite off-putting, if you ask me.”

“Well, given what he’s being charged with and the fact that we caught him red handed, I wouldn’t suspect he would have any interest in helping us.”

“I supposed that’s true, sir.”

“I’ll be in my office reviewing the case files. Please let me know when Mrs. Haynes and Mr. Moore arrive.”

“Yes, sir, will do sir…. Oh, Inspector?” Jack, who had already started walking into his office, turned around and looked at Hugh.

“Yes, Collins?”

“Um, how is Miss Fisher doing? I know Dot was quite worried about her, but was glad you were there with her.”

Jack wanted to be annoyed at his constable’s blatant digging for information, but was in too pleasant a mood to be bothered. “She’s quite fine, thank you. She will be in around lunchtime, potentially with your wife in tow.”

“That’s good, sir.”

Jack nodded and went into his office, laying the case file across his desk for review. About 15 minutes later, a nervous Hugh rapped on the door jamb and peeked in.

“Sir, there is a Mr. Cuthbert here to see you? He says it’s urgent.” Before Jack had a chance to respond, a stricken Ferdinand appeared behind him and rushed into the office. He stopped short at the desk, where photos of the victims were lined up chronologically. In the far left corner at the beginning of the line was a picture of Annie. His eyes widened in horror at the long line of victims.

A string of nervous questions spilled out. “I heard that you found him. Did you find him? Did he hurt anyone else? Will he hang?”

“Mr. Cuthbert, please, this is an ongoing investigation. We have someone in custody that we think is connected but it is too soon to say anything for sure.”

“I need to see him. I need to see the monster who killed my Annie.”

“It would be very helpful to us if you would be willing to look at the suspect to see if you recognize him from your time on the docks. But remember, he is potentially dangerous. I’ll need you to promise not to antagonize him, simply see if you recognize him from before. Can you do that?”

Ferdinand’s jaw set stubbornly. “Yes. I can do that. I need to.”

“Very well, come with me. Collins, if our witnesses appear before we get back, please seat them in my office. I shouldn’t be too long.” Collins nodded and returned to his desk.

Jack led Ferdinand to the back to the station where the holding cells were. Edmond was seated on the floor in the corner with his head back, apparently asleep. As Jack walked into the room, one eye opened slowly. The eye darted back to Ferdinand as he appeared in the room, and suddenly he was on his feet grasping at the bars and screaming wildly. Ferdinand jumped in surprise.

“Bastard”, he screamed. “She was mine, and you stole her from me. And now, because of you, no one can have her!”

Even though there was at least 10 feet between Ferdinand and the cell, he jumped back, pressing his back against the wall in fear. He looked to Jack for guidance, but Jack stood there calmly as if nothing had happened. Edmond continued to scream curses and threats, rattling the cell bars, but began to quiet when he saw the impassive, almost bored, look on the Inspector’s face.

“Interesting,” Jack said, once the tirade had ended. “I’m curious about what you meant when you said no one can have her. Care to elaborate?”

Edmond stood, not moving a muscle, glaring at Jack. Then, without breaking eye contact, he stepped backwards deeper into the cell and sat on the bench. Jack simply shrugged.

“Suddenly shy, are we? Suit yourself. Fortunately between your antics last night, witness statements, and your distinctive modus operandi, we have more than enough for a strong case.” He turned to Ferdinand who was still glued to the wall in terror. “Mr. Cuthbert, have you seen this man before?” Ferdinand could only nod nervously. “And where had you seen him?”

His voice was quiet and shaky. “On… on the d-d-docks. Speaking with m-m-my Annie.” 

At her name, Edmond surged forward again, charging the bars and screaming. “She belonged to me, not you!” he raged

Ferdinand looked like he was on the verge of fainting, despite the thick bars keeping Edmond at bay. Speaking over the angry screams in the background, Jack thanked the terrified man, and led him upstairs to sign a witness statement.

By the time he had finished Ferdinand Cuthbert’s statement, the surviving witnesses had reappeared at the station looking shaken, but otherwise healthy. Once his interviews and statements were complete, Jack had a distressingly familiar portrait of the man who had been terrorizing Melbourne’s clubs for months. Charming, friendly, and seemingly trustworthy, he would turn violent and obsessive in seconds. Jack thought back to Rene, trying to wrap his head around how such monsters managed to remain hidden for so long. He was busy writing his reports when Phryne’s singsong voice greeted Hugh. His office filled with the smell of her perfume and the clicking of her heels on the tile floor. He smiled to himself as his stomach growled in a Pavlovian response to hear appearance, gently reminding him that he hadn’t eaten since the night before. Sure enough, when she appeared in his doorway, she was holding the familiar hamper where he knew all kinds of Mr. Butler’s goodies would be stowed.

She laughed as Jack’s eyes flickered between her and the basket. “Don’t know which you want more, eh Inspector? I’d be offended, except I know just how good Mr. Butler’s gratin is.” Jack stood and kissed her on the cheek as she sat on the edge of the desk to unload the basket. “You know,” she continued, “Mr. Butler had a pot of coffee and some scones waiting for you in the kitchen. I was surprised you didn’t take them with you!”

Jack’s jaw dropped a bit in surprise. “Wait, he had what?” It hadn’t even occurred to Jack that there would be food waiting for him in the morning.

“Of course, dear. And before you ask, no I didn’t ask him to. He’s quite fond of you, you know, and that’s his way of showing it. As is this!” As she spoke she pulled out a ceramic dish covered in tinfoil and placed it on Jack’s desk. “Now eat; I need you at full strength tonight if you are going to survive one of Aunt Prudence’s parties intact.” Not needing to be asked twice, Jack dug in hungrily, playfully batting Phryne’s hand away when she tried to snatch bits from the dish.

Phryne waited until the dish had been all but licked clean before putting it back in the basket. “So, did you learn anything this morning?”

Jack nodded grimly. “This guy is a real piece of work. Charming at first, earning people’s trust, before becoming controlling and violent. He hasn’t explicitly admitted to the murders, but he reacted very strongly to Ferdinand, talking like Annie was his property instead of a person.

Phryne’s face turned sober and she shuddered. “I’m quite familiar with men like that.” She rubbed her wrist as if some phantom wound had begun to ache.

Jack placed a comforting hand on her knee. “I know. And fortunately Rene is dead, and Edmond is locked away where he can’t hurt anyone else. Based on what happened at the club and the witness statements I was able to get this morning, he will be there for quite some time.”

Phryne chewed her lip and started off into the distance with a concerned look on her face. Desperate to lighten the mood, Jack changed the subject. He sat back in his chair and stretched his legs out on top of the desk. “So I know you had said in no uncertain terms that I would be attending Mrs. Stanley’s fundraiser tonight, but I was wondering. Do you want me to attend as Inspector Robinson, friend and colleague? Or just Jack Robinson, escort and date of the Honorable Miss Phryne Fisher?”

Phryne’s face shifted to a mischievous grin. “Ahh that is a good question.” She placed two fingers on his knee and slowly traced them up his thigh. “I do have my distinct preference, but I know you’ve had a stressful few days, so I’ll defer to you.”

“In that case, I’ll make sure to pack that overnight bag.”

Phryne smiled and hopped off the desk. “Then I’ll make sure you need it.” She kissed him on the cheek. “But on that note, I must be going. I promised Aunt Prudence I would help decorate.” Phryne pouted at the thought of spending the whole afternoon with a frantic Mrs. Stanley.

“It’s just as well. I have a lot to sort through here to close out the case, and fortunately for you, it is only the boring paperwork. You’d be bored to tears in minutes.”

“Tears? Not possible.” She leaned down so that their faces were inches apart. “Bored to distraction, however, is highly likely. See you tonight at 6:30?”

“I wouldn’t dream of missing it.”

Phryne picked up the now empty hamper and sauntered to the door. “Until tonight, Jack.”

Jack smiled. “Until tonight, Phryne.”


	21. Chapter 21

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm so sorry it's been too long! I was traveling for work, and then had a bit of writer's block. I'm still not entirely happy with this, but wasn't sure what else to do with it, and you've been so patient with me as it is. So here's Aunt P's party. Probably only one or two more chapters after this!

If anyone noticed that Jack left City South uncharacteristically early, they were wise enough not to comment on it. Collins, the only one who would know that his departure was related to something other than his injury, would rather face any number of unpleasant fates than betray his mentor’s trust. From Hugh’s perspective, the Inspector finally seemed happy, and he would do anything in his power to keep it that way.

Jack stopped home just long enough to shower, change, and stow an extra set of clothes into a small duffel bag. He debated about bringing toiletries, but suspected Mr. Butler already had a wide range of extravagant shampoos and shaving creams waiting for him at Wardlow. Thankful for the spate of warm weather they’d been having, he plucked some obliging flowers from his garden. 

Jack arrived at Phryne’s about fifteen minutes early, but Mr. Butler welcomed him as if he were right on time, saying that he expected Miss Fisher to come down any minute. Sure enough, as he was finishing hanging up his hat and coat, he heard her appear on the stairway behind him.

“Hello, Jack”

Jack turned to smile, but stopped with his jaw agape as soon as he saw her. She wore a floor length gown of midnight blue that had been embellished with crystals to look like a starry sky. The dress clung to her hips, shimmering as she moved, giving her pale skin an otherworldly ethereal glow. The neckline plunged almost scandalously, and Jack knew he would have a hard time erasing the image from his memory.

Phryne grinned as she watched his eyes rake up and down her body, his reaction exactly what she was hoping it would be. She took him in as well, admiring how his lean frame filled out the black suit he was wearing. Jack blinked and shook his head as descended the stairs, and handed her the small bouquet of flowers.

“Jack!” she exclaimed gleefully. “You didn’t need bring me anything!”

He smiled and kissed her gently on the cheek to preserve her freshly applied makeup. “I know, but I never had the chance to woo you properly, so I’m making up for lost time. Besides, they weren’t doing much good in my garden where I was the only one who got to see them.”

Phryne’s eyes widened at the thoughtful gesture. “They’re beautiful.”

“Just wait until you see it in late summer. It will put this bouquet to shame.” Jack’s cheeks reddened a bit when he realized it was the first time they had spoken of a future more distant than a few days out, but relaxed when Phryne didn’t seem alarmed.

Phryne brought the flowers to her face and inhaled the fragrance, then handed the bouquet to Mr. Butler who had reappeared with a vase. “You’ll have to teach me. I’ve never been good with living things, I’m afraid.”

Jack lifted a silver shawl that had been hanging on the hook next to his coat and draped it around her shoulders. “Given the sheer numbers of people who are devoted to you, Miss Fisher, I find that utterly impossible to believe.” He donned his hat and coat, and offered her his arm. “Shall we?” She took it gladly, and he escorted her to his car.

\---

They arrived fashionably late, with the party already in full swing. When she saw them walk into the large dining room, Mrs. Stanley waved and made her way across the room to her niece.

“Phryne, dear, you’re late! Everyone has been asking for you! And Inspector, how good to see you again.”

Phryne released Jack’s arm long enough to embrace her aunt. “I’m sure that’s a bit of an exaggeration, Aunt P, but I appreciate the sentiment. As she stepped back, Jack placed his hand affectionately at the small of her back, and Phryne shot him a dazzling grin.

Prudence couldn’t help chuckling to herself, somewhat relieved that the two had found some sort of equilibrium. “Now Phryne, do behave yourself.” She glanced around the room at the society matrons with their young sons who were beginning to circle like birds of prey. “And please try to dance with some of the other gentlemen at least once in a while, otherwise I will have a lot of explaining to do.”

“Aunt Prudence!” Phryne said, mildly annoyed. “I’m not some show pony to be paraded around to your donors!”

Prudence was visibly confused. “Oh course not dear! But it’s no secret that many of the gentlemen attend for the opportunity to entice you for a dance. You’ve always quite enjoyed the attention in the past!”

Phryne thought for a minute before realizing her aunt was right. While they were sometimes long and dull, Phryne would often find herself making new acquaintances, if at least for the night. Jack watched the exchange with amusement, pleased as much by Phryne’s confusion as he was by the knowledge that he was the cause of her change of perspective.

“Mrs. Stanley, while I’ll likely ask for one or two, I’m not much of a dancer myself, so I’m sure others will have the opportunity to take the floor with Miss Fisher, provided she is amenable of course.”

Prudence eyed him skeptically. “Very well, Inspector.” She nodded to a table on the other side of the room. “I believe that’s where you two are seated. We will serving dinner shortly.”

Jack took Phryne’s arm and the walked towards their table “So, Inspector, you’ve said in the past that you tend to react badly when I’m with another man,” she said playfully. “You sure you won’t mind me dancing with someone else?”

“Not in the least, Miss Fisher.”

“Oh? And how can you be so sure?”

He gave her a smoldering glance and leaned in to whisper in her ear. “Because they may have the honor now, but in a few hours, I’ll have the honor of a much more intimate dance and they will be forgotten.”

Jack blushed a bit, surprising even himself with the forward comment, but Phryne’s lips parted and her eyes darkened with lust. They had neared their table, so she turned towards him to smooth the lapels of his suit. “We have a whole night ahead of us, Jack, and if all goes to plan, they won’t be the only things forgotten. When I’m done with you, you won’t remember your own name.”

Jack stepped back pulled out the chair in front of Phryne’s place setting, clearing his throat. “I look forward to it, Miss Fisher,” he said as respectably as he could. Phryne just smiled serenely. From across the room, Aunt Prudence continued to watch them suspiciously.

Jack moved to the empty seat to Phryne’s left, only to see an unfamiliar woman’s name on the placard. He and Phryne exchanged confused looks until she noticed that the gentleman who was seated to her right had pushed Jack’s placard into the middle of the table and assumed his seat. He was likely in his early thirties, but his receding hair and pocked skin made him look considerably older. He was watching Phryne with might generously be called a smile, but could more accurately be described as a leer. Phryne quickly rolled her eyes at Jack and turned to the man.

“Excuse me, Sir, but I believe this seat was reserved for an Inspector Jack Robinson.”

The man’s face pinched into a smug expression. “I saw the name, but I’m sure if must have been placed there in error. After all, it didn’t make sense to place the most beautiful woman in the room next to a mere police officer when there are so many other eligible bachelors in attendance tonight.”

Phryne forced a smile, her words dripping with honey. “Like yourself, of course. And what is your name, sir?” 

He bowed slightly with false modesty. “I wouldn’t introduce myself that way, but since you were kind enough to, I wouldn’t dare argue. My name is James Campbell. My mother, Lady Campbell is over there speaking with your aunt.”

“Lovely to meet you, Mr. Campbell. Please, let me introduce you to my date.” The man’s face fell at her use of the word, while Phryne affectionately placed Jack’s hand on her shoulder. “James, this is Detective Inspector Jack Robinson with the Melbourne Police Department.” Jack nodded a greeting at the mortified man, who quickly stood and offered Jack his chair.

“I do apologize, Miss Fisher,” he stammered. “But I hadn’t realized you would be accompanied this evening.” He paused to regain his composure, and again smiled at Phryne. “You may be occupied tonight, but if you find yourself with an evening free in the near future, I would love to take you out. I could show you many beautiful places here in Melbourne that would be made even lovelier by your presence.”

Jack, now seated comfortably in his chair, smiled pleasantly. “Unfortunately Miss Fisher’s evenings are spoken for in the foreseeable future, but if anything changes, I’m sure you will be the first person she calls.” James, recognizing the dismissal, turned and quickly made his retreat. Phryne scrunched her nose and shuddered.

“Sniveling little prig. No doubt he is running to his mother, who will then complain to Aunt Prudence.” Jack laughed and took her hand in his beneath the tablecloth.

“If that sends him running to mummy, the poor man wouldn’t last five minutes with you. Just imagine what would happen if he saw your appalling driving! Or even worse, what would he do if you showed up unannounced at one of his crime scenes?”

Phryne smiled proudly. “I am quite a handful, aren’t I, Inspector?”

Jack squeezed her hand. “Absolutely, but the best things always are.”

Soon, dinner was served and Jack and Phryne ate, simply enjoying each other’s company. When the tables were cleared, couples began to migrate to the dance floor. The music was a little old fashioned and ill-suited for Phryne’s preferred dancing style, but the band was good and the company better. Jack surprised her by standing and offering his hand to dance. Phryne smiled and let him lead her out to the floor.

“And here I thought I would have to fight to get you out onto the dance floor!”

Jack smirked and nodded his head to the side of the room where a handful of young men stood in awkward conversation, all trying to get Phryne’s attention or glower at Jack. “Since it looks like your dance card is already quite full, I didn’t want to miss my chance.” He took her hand in his and wrapped his left arm around her waist, pulling her slightly closer than was proper. Phryne purred in approval.

“Oh, is that why, Inspector? Purely to dance, and not for their benefit?” Phryne winked at one of the men standing along the wall, laughing as he puffed out his chest and straightened his tie in anticipation of her attention.

Jack scowled jokingly and spun Phryne around to the music. “Careful, Miss Fisher, or you’ll break that poor boy’s heart. And while my primary intent was a simple dance, it doesn’t hurt if it helps stake my claim-”

Phryne pulled back suddenly. “Your WHAT?”

Jack continued as if she hadn’t interrupted. “-for as long as you’ll let me. Besides, it gives you an out if you aren’t in the mood for dancing anymore.”

Phryne squinted her eyes at him in a measuring stare. Jack sighed and maneuvered them to the side of the dance floor where their sudden stillness wouldn’t make them stick out. He pulled his hand out from hers and briefly cupped her cheek. 

“Phryne, you’re going to have to get used to thinking of yourself as mine, and of me as yours. You know I don’t mean it as a cage; you can wink at and dance with as many young men as you’d like. But the most beautiful woman in this room has said she will be with me and me only, and you can’t blame me for wanting the world to know!”

As if on cue, the music shifted and couples began breaking up and looking for new dance partners. Seeing an entrance, the man Phryne had winked approached asking for a dance. Jack smiled at the man, nodded to Phryne, and stepped back to let them pass onto the dance floor. Feeling frustrated but knowing that moping would undermine his point, Jack took a drink from a nearby waiter and retreated to a far wall where he could comfortably watch the whole room.

Phryne watched him leave, then smiled at her new dance partner as they walked out to the floor. Trying to be subtle, she periodically glanced at Jack while she danced, trying to gauge his mood.

“I’m sorry Miss Fisher, but was that man bothering you? If you’d like I can see about having him removed.”

Phryne looked up in confusion. “I’m sorry, what?”

“He seemed inappropriately familiar with you, and you seem out of sorts. If you’d like I can have him escorted out.”

It took Phryne a minute to process what he was saying. “I’m sorry, you mean Inspector Robinson? Oh no, please don’t. He’s my date for the evening.”

The man looked genuinely confused before deciding on a possible explanation. “Ah, for the benefit of one of your Aunt’s charities. That is so kind of you.”

Phryne glared once she realized his meaning. “Ah, no, you misunderstand. There is no charity. We are, well, courting would be the word for it I guess.”

The man’s blushed and averted his eyes, mumbling an apology.

“Tell me honestly. Is it that strange?”

“Honestly? Well, yes, a bit. You could have anyone in this room, so why would you want-”

“A pedestrian Detective Inspector,” Phryne finished wistfully, remembering Jack’s letter from months ago.

“I guess that’s one way to put it.”

They continued the dance in friendly but awkward silence, Phryne lost in thought. No wonder Jack was a little sensitive; no one here believed she could possibly want him, and Phryne suspected even Jack himself found it difficult to believe at times.

When the song ended, Phryne politely excused herself, dodging potential suitors as she made her way to the other side of the room where Jack stood. Once she confirmed that she was being watched, she leaned in and kissed him on the cheek, then grabbed his hand and pulled him out to dance. Jack barely had time to find a table to sit his half-finished drink before being swept away.

“Did I miss something?”, he asked once they had found a spot on the floor, surprised as much by her sudden change in demeanor as by the open affection.

“Nothing specific. It just occurred to me that many people here find it hard to believe that we are here together.”

Jack smirked. “You noticed that too, did you? Although I count myself among them,” he said, confirming her suspicion.

“I just wanted to dispel the idea.”

Jack pulled her close and kissed her forehead. “I may have to let you dance with other men more often if this is how I’m rewarded.”

Phryne cocked an eyebrow. “Let me, Inspector?”

Jack rolled his eyes. “Yes, let you, Miss Fisher!”

Phryne laughed. “Fine. As long as you don’t say ‘stake your claim’ again.”

“I suppose that’s fair.”

Phryne scanned the room for her Aunt, happy to see she was deep in conversation with a donor from the hospital. “Jack, suddenly this gala has lost its appeal. Would you mind escorting me home?”

Jack glanced around the room nervously as if Mrs. Stanley would magically appear at even the thought of leaving. “Phryne, we’ve only been here an hour. Do you really think that’s a good idea?”

Phryne pouted and traced her hand along his chest. “Jaaaaack, don’t you want to come home with me?”

“You know very well I do, but your Aunt-” 

“Has plenty of other people to keep her occupied for a while.” Phryne’s gaze darkened as her hand continued down his chest to his waist. Jack gasped and grabbed it before she could feel the effect she was having on him.

“Miss Fisher, you are going to be the death of me.”

She raised her eyebrow mischievously. “That’s the idea, Jack. Le petite mort.” She winked and took his arm, leading him towards a back door.

“Unless Mrs. Stanley kills me first,” Jack muttered under his breath.

“That’s why we aren’t going to tell her!”

“But what about my coat and your shawl?”

“We will just have to get them tomorrow!”

“We’re coming back here tomorrow?”

“Yes, we will have to.”

“May I ask why?”

Phryne quietly opened the door and ushered them out, closing it silently behind her.

“To apologize for leaving, of course!”

“This had better be worth it, Miss Fisher.”

Phryne turned and pushed Jack up against the wall they were following around the house, kissing him roughly and grinding her hips against his. Jack yelped in surprise before wrapping his arms around her and trying to her against him again, but she spun free and sprinted around the house.

“I promise you, Inspector. It will,” she called behind her.

Jack stopped to adjust his tie and trousers, and followed her to the car.


End file.
